Angels of the Dark
by The Weaver of Words
Summary: Present Day: Christine is an angry, slightly insane 17 year old, after the biggest fight of her life, she meets a shady man who she believes is even crazier than her. He convinces her to stay, so he can help her. He seems, like an Angel of the Dark.
1. Chapter 1

I just wanted to kill someone, I was always an unstable person, everyone always expected me to go over the edge. And I did not disappoint. My mother, one smack across my face was all that it took, I gave her a fight she'll never forget. And I left, leaving my mother a sobbing, bloody mess on the floor. Taking the keys to my Mustang I pealed out of the drive way, never coming back, not caring if my mom dies. See you in Hell, Bitch.

I sped down the old country road, not giving a damn if I lost control and died, better off dead anyways. Taking a sharp turn, I heard the tires screech in protest. Glowering out of the windshield, I sneered at my transparent reflection, hating myself with a true burning passion. Hating myself more than anyone. I was shaking by then, rage building up inside me. I felt like screaming.

Stomping down on the brakes, they squealed and the car slid violently to a stop, sending me lurching forward. Nearly throwing me out the windshield, yeah, I wish. I was in front of a building. It was old and abandoned, most likely a safety hazard, but as you can tell from my driving, I really didn't give a damn. I took the keys out of the ignition and kicked the door open, slamming it shut so hard, the glass in the window rattled, threatening to break. I shoved the keys deep down in my pocket and approached the old building.

As I got closer, I could barely make out a sign. It was old and faded from years of unforgiving weather and brutal sunlight.

_Thom son O era* _I had to squint to read the sign in the dull, silvery moonlight. I gave a careless shrug and went to the door. The door was sunken on its hinges, so I had to put real effort into opening the damned thing. I eventually got in. Sticking my head in, I saw; a perhaps once grand entry hall. It didn't matter anymore, the old place was covered in cobwebs and dust. I entered, putting my shoulder into the door so I could open it enough to get my entire body through.

I stopped on the inside, it was like entering another world, alien and ancient. Like a horror movie, and the killer was about to pop out and get me in this moment of pure silence. I expected it, wanted it, my life was nothing.

"Maybe there's some sort of toxic something here that I breathe it in, I'd die." I thought, smiling a bit at the fact. A tear went down my cheek, my anger subsiding to hurt and depression. I hadn't taken my pills, so I'd most likely feel like nothing. Not that the medicine helped with that. Stupid doctors. I kept walking, exploring. Hoping the ceiling crashed down on me, crushing me to death. I didn't deserve a quick, painless death. I didn't want one either. Maybe the floor would give way and I'd plummet to my demise. That would be nice, plenty of broken bones. Plenty of pain. More time to think about how worthless I was. That no one would come searching. I'd see my dad. He was the only one that ever really loved me.

More tears rained down upon my cheeks, eventually soaking my face. I took a shaky breath. I realized I was in a huge room, there were raggedy old seats and a big dusty stage in front of it all. I walked down into the room. I didn't falter at the sound of bats. Maybe they'd attack me and I'd die of rabies. I heard that was a painful death. I wanted a painful death because my father died a painful death. He didn't deserve to die. I did. I deserved to die. I just stopped, and I sat down in a dusty old chair. I could see rays of moonlight plunging down through holes in the walls and one hole miraculously made its way down through several floors from the top and meet the bottom.

I wished I had brought a weapon of some sort, something to end my miserable life if Fate wouldn't do me a favor and end me. Then I realized, any suicide would be too quick, not painful enough.

"I can tell by the look on your face you just want to die." I jumped at the sudden vocalization from the shadows on the stage. I looked up, not seeing the source of the voice. Probably just my mind, I had really lost it.

"Not that hard to tell." I replied. Whoever it was didn't reply. They gave a bit of a _tsk _of disappointment. Even the voices hated me… I hated me, not saying much about the voices. I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

"And you thought coming here would help?" The voice said after a while. I rolled my eyes again. Shaking my head.

"No. I was hoping I'd die in a car crash, but… something about this place made me stop. I don't know what. Perhaps it was this place is uglier than me. Less fortunate than me. Left with no one to care about it. Like me." I said.

"I care about this place." The voice replied. I almost smiled.

"Yet you didn't say anything but that you care about this place. Just goes to show how much of a bitch this is." I muttered. The voice didn't say anything. I shook my head, not caring about anything anymore. Only my death. I ran scenarios though my mind, trying to decide which self inflicted death would last the longest, be the most painful. I got up and walked down the isle as I got closer to the stage, I could make out a figure. The voice was a real person? I stopped.

"Who's there?" I asked. They laughed, a marvelous, handsome laugh. From a voice so beautiful. The person stepped forth into the light of the full moon, revealing a devilishly handsome man, with dark hair and, weirdly, a mask, on a side of his face.

"Most people ask that when they hear me, not after." I rolled my eyes. I really was crazy. The dude looked like he belonged in some fairy tale or something, that was just how beautiful he was. He was just a figment of my imagination.

"Well I originally thought you were a voice." I muttered, looking away.

"A voice? Funny, a woman, decades ago, thought the same thing. Irony. Why, if I may ask, do you want to die?" He asked, moving so he'd be in my line of vision.

"My life's a bitch, that's why." I hissed, moving away from him. He didn't have to try to keep up with me. It was too easy for him.

"How might that be?" He asked, getting in my way of the door. I glared at him, now he was getting annoying.

"My father died, leaving me with an abusive evil bitch of a mother, everyone around me hates me. No one wants me around. So I'm just better off dead." I told him. He raised his only visible eyebrow.

"I know the pain." He told me. I laughed.

"Whatever. Get out of my way so I can go run my Mustang into a tree." I hissed at him. He shook his head.

"Hear me out." He replied simply. I shook my head.

"No, now get out of my way." I spat at him. He laughed.

"If you can make me, I will." He told me challengingly.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I hissed at him. He laughed again, a calm, psycho laugh. I raised an eyebrow, maybe he'd kill me. No, I wanted that too much, Fate was too cruel to deliver me what I wanted.

"My name is Erik. I terrorized the Opera Populaire in Paris in the 19th century. There's a book about me. The Phantom of the Opera, perhaps you've heard of it, hmm?" He asked, raising his eyebrow again. I glared at him.

"You're crazy." I said bluntly, taking a step forth. 'Erik' didn't move a muscle.

"So are you, mademoiselle." He replied sinisterly, an almost evil. I laughed.

"What do you want?" I asked him, finally getting the fact he wanted something from me. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth.

"Ah and she catches on," He purred with a pleased air. "Allow me to play host to you for a few days, and we'll see how your outlook on life is when I release you. You still want to die, I'll let you go so you can ram your 'Mustang' into a tree. You leave with a positive outlook, I will ask nothing of you in return. How does that sound?" He said. I looked at him like he was crazy, then brought my eyebrows down in an angry V.

"I just want to help you. You don't even have to tell me your name. Just stay with me for a while. Please?" He said, him begging wasn't convincing me.

"I don't want help." I returned. He cocked a side smile.

"Yes you do, you just don't know it. I was in the same crisis, I can help you. Just let me try. I know what you're going through. I can help, just let me try. Come on, child, you don't really want to die. You just want to start over, that's all. And inside, you know I'm right." His strong powerful voice became soft and lulling. Tears came to my eyes, he was right, he was so right. It scared me. That's when the tears just fell, and so did I. I just fell to the ground. Erik stepped forth, his arms wrapped around me. He pulled me close to him. He was warm.

For the first time in years, I felt wanted. This crazy maniac guy who thought he was another crazy maniac guy from hundreds of years ago, wanted to make me feel wanted. He knew I just wanted a redo, just a fresh start.

"What's your name?" He asked. I looked up at him. His white half mask glowed in the moonlight. He wasn't smiling, though, his eyes were warm and inviting, if I didn't know better, loving.

"Chr-Christine." I muttered. He looked like he just got stabbed in the gut. Like he really was that guy from that book.

"You do look like her, you know." He whispered. I only whimpered somewhat, ignoring his comment. He was crazy, and I was trusting him. Hell, we both were, both maniacs in our world of pain.

"Come on, lets get out of here before the place collapses." He said, helping me up gently. He didn't let go of my hand, his own covered in a leather glove. He led me out of the building and around the massive structure, to a small warm cottage in nestled in the woods behind the old building. We stopped at the foot of the stairs, he left me and climbed the steps, pulling out a rather ancient looking key and opened the house up. A wave of warmth escaped through the opened door. He turned around, offering his hand to me. I looked up to him. His image was beautiful, breathe taking and god-like.

I took his hand and he led me inside. There was small nagging in the back of my mind, telling me to run, this guy's a bigger psycho than me, my small amount of sanity. I ignored it, and threw caution to the wind. I let him lead me into the darkened house.

**A/N: The opera house was called Thompson Opera. I was SUPER PISSED when I wrote this, like pissed on steroids pissed. That's why the opening is so angry and un-Celtic Authoress like. I think I'm back at Phantom of the Opera, certainly hope so. Hope ya'll liked the first chapter of "Angel's of the Dark." R&R? Please?**


	2. Chapter 2

He led me through the dark house, Erik stopped in suddenly, getting his key out again, he reached up and turned on a gas lamp above our heads. The golden glow gave of a circle of light in the dark, windowless hallway. My host disappeared into the room in front of us and turned on a bedside lamp, seeing him in better light, I could tell he wore a cloak and evening dress. Like they described him in the book. Though, he was far from noseless and skeletal. His skin was a lovely marble tone and he looked strong. He looked at me.

"Well my dear, you look like you've been through a lot." He said, finally seeing me in good lighting. He was referring to my developing black eye and busted lip. I was lucky that my mother didn't break my nose. I gave a huff and looked down. Erik gave a bit of a merciful laugh. His hand gripped my wrist. Gloveless, I could see his hand. He had long elegant fingers that curved gently around my thin wrist as he pulled me into the room and sat me down on the bed.

"Now, stay here, I'll be back with something for your lip and eye." He told me. I nodded. Erik swept out of the room with more grace than I'd ever seen in a man. His cloak bellowing out behind him in a dramatic way, making it seem he was flying. I studied the room around me. The walls were a warm foresty green and the ground was polished, perhaps mahogany. There was a fire place with paints perched proudly on the mantle. I eyed the picture on the left. A hand painted, beautifully detailed picture of a rose in full bloom. The scarlet red petals biting through the shadows of the mantle. The other picture on the right side of the mantle was also hand painted, a pond scene. A couple of two breath takingly beautiful people stood at the edge. The woman was dropping blood red rose petals in the water.

Roses, what was with all the roses? I admit, they were beautiful, but both pictures were involved with roses. The couple picture, the brightest color was blood red, and that was the rose petals. I looked to the comforter below me. The color of a perfect rose red. I furrowed my brow. Rose red. Every where I looked. I liked it.

Warm hands gripped my face out of nowhere. Erik pulled my face up gently to look him in the eyes. He dabbed my lip gently, on impulse, I tried to pull away. Erik held on strong though.

"Easy." He muttered soothingly. I wanted to ask him about his mask. Though, from when I read Phantom of the Opera in my Sophomore year, he was real... touchy on the subject. I wasn't about to take my chances when he was so... gentle. I may look and be named the same Christine, but I wasn't going to make the same mistakes that dumb broad did. Never really liked her character, too innocent, always something hiding underneath.

I remained still, Erik gazed into my eyes. His metallic blue eyes were attention catching and warm. I looked down from him. He tilted my chin up, making me look at him again.

"I take back what I said about you looking like her. Its just barely there." He said. I remained silent, not really in the mood to talk. He laid his hand on the left side of my face.

"While you're here, I promise you, no one is going to hurt you." He told me, his voice soft and lulling. I met his eyes.

"Thank You." I told him. He gave me a type of a sad smile, then stood.

"You should get to sleep." He offered. I nodded, sitting there until he left, closing the door behind him. I stood up, removed my shoes and laid down, almost not wanting to mess up the perfectly made bed, I shrugged it off and pulled the comforter and sheets out from under the pillows and crawled under, the mattress was nice and soft, a memory foam mattress underneath the fitted sheet. Felt like I was lying on a cloud. I smiled sleepily and drifted off into a dead sleep.

The weak winter sunlight wavering in through the window was what woke me. I sat up, thinking last night was all a dream. Until I opened my eyes, I realized that I was still in Erik's house, lying in an amazing cloud bed. I sat up, throwing the blankets off me, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. I opened the door a hair, just enough to see out.

I saw Erik's god-like appearance in the living room, sitting at a piano, playing softly. He looked like he just dropped out of the 19th century. I opened the door the rest of the way. Sticking my head out, I stole a glance at the grandfather clock in the hallway, it read 11:36. I frowned, coming out of the room completely.

"I take it you had intended on leaving far before you ever did?" Erik asked, his hands sliding away from the ivory keys slowly and he turned. He nodded towards my bag on the floor. A bag I had packed two weeks back and thrown in the trunk of my Mustang, just in case.

"I guess." I replied quietly. Erik said nothing, but returned to the piano, playing again. He really did seem like the man from the book. There was no way he could've been him though. He would've looked ancient, if not dead. Not like a god amongst men.

"Wait, how did you get into my car?" I asked, I could've sworn I locked the door. He didn't reply, basically telling me he picked the lock… Not hard if you have the right tools. I went over to my bag and picked it up, unzipping the side pocket, I pulled out the Ipod I bought when I had scratched up enough money for it. It was nice, that was why I hid it in my bag for two weeks so my mother wouldn't take it. I wondered it Erik would find it rude if I decided to listen to Evanescence. I felt his gaze on me, looking up, I met his eyes. Such beautiful, breath taking, blue eyes. I looked down, putting the Ipod back in my bag.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked him timidly. Erik didn't say anything, yet he stood and went off, I followed him. He was standing in the hall way when I caught up to him.

"Here." He said simply and quietly. I nodded and he walked by me. He had changed, maybe he was regretting his choice? He seemed sad. I frowned and watched him walk down the hall and turn into the room we just left. I looked down and went into the bathroom. Stripped and showered, coming out after fifteen minutes, I felt better, clean.

Getting dressed in black skinny jeans and a royal purple turtle neck. Everyone always told me I looked nice in purple. So most of my shirts were purple. I stepped out of the bathroom and went into the living room. Erik wasn't there, but I heard a ruckus coming from the next room over and Erik unleashing a string of curses. I smiled a bit. Entering the other room, I found the kitchen. Erik was kneeling, picking up pots and pans. I joined him on the floor, stacking smaller pots into bigger pots and setting them on the counter. Erik protested though, I ignored it. The mess was cleaned up quicker.

We stood, facing each other, I looked down in the moment of awkwardness. That was when I noticed the huge bouquet of scarlet red roses. How could I have missed them?

"They're lovely." I said, approaching them. Erik remained behind the island counter and watched me. I just stared at them. So beautiful, full of life.

"I grow them in a green house further into the woods." He told me, coming up beside them.

"I dry them out once they start to wilt. Even the slightest. Then I go out and get more of them. Flowers are such a lovely example of life." He told me. I nodded, remembering after my father's death. We had all sorts of mercy flowers in our home. From peace lilies to beautiful bouquets of flowers. Of course, that was before my mother started hating anything and everything around her. Including her own daughter. I looked down, blinking a bit, trying to keep tears from falling.

Erik's arms went around my shoulders, holding me in a warm embrace.

"All that has hurt you now will no longer hurt you in the future. I promise, Christine. I won't let you down." He whispered gently. I smiled softly, giving him a small nod in return. Protection and affection are often looked over. Since everyone is supposed to have it. Yet there are a few, a few that don't have it. Though, when they receive what they crave, they treasure it.

I didn't want him to pull away, but he did, he pulled away and retreated into the kitchen. He picked up a pan and washed it in the sink.

"Do you like Monsieur-croquet?" He asked me, I loved them, the amazing French version of a grilled cheese sandwich. My father used to make the best.

"I do." I told him, Erik could hear the eagerness in my voice. He laughed a little, making me smile. I went and sat down on a bar stool sitting in front of the island.

Erik busied himself with lunch while I wandered around the house with his permission. He just told me one thing.

Stay away from his room, it was on the top floor. He said knew that it wasn't very hospitable of him to say that, in fact ominous. I wandered around, there was a stairway leading down. I stopped at the top looking down. Another horror movie moment went through my head. I turned away and went back into the kitchen.

"Erik?" I asked him. The God-like man turned, locking his eyes with my own.

"Yes?" He replied, although it was like he wanted to say something else, something deeper. I shook away the thought mentally.

"Where do the stairs lead down to?" I asked him. Erik gave a smile.

"The library." He told me, you were to tell me that three years ago, I would've freaked. I didn't really care for books anymore. They disappointed me. Fairy Tales always ended happily. So did regular books. I gave up on books when my Knight in Shining Armor didn't come to whisk me away from my evil mother and take me home to his castle and make me his Queen.

Erik saw my disappointed look. He gave a bit of a frown, almost disapproving.

"Ever read anything by Edgar Allan Poe?" He asked I looked at him, inclining my eyebrows. I had read the Tell Tale Heart in seventh grade. That was before my father died and left me with my mother. At the time I had thought Edgar Allan Poe was a maniac that needed to be locked up in the nearest loony bin. I nodded though.

"And you still don't like to read?" Erik asked, inclining an eyebrow. I shook my head. I never really had time to read anymore. Erik heaved a sigh, shaking his head a bit.

"Youth of today. Not your fault though…" He muttered. I gave him my best 'what the fuck' look and left the kitchen. Deciding to go down to the library for the hell of it. I descended the stair, seeing the room dark. I felt for a light switch.

"Really Erik? You're gunna put a library in the basement? Ironic much?" I muttered. If anything I expected his room to be down here. Since he used to prefer the catacombs below Paris. I gave a sigh, not finding a light switch, I stretched my arm up and looked for a gas lamp above my head, finding one, I looked for the wheel to turn it on.

Light flooded into the room from the lamp. I saw the three walls were nothing but books. Bookshelves. I saw a couch and an over stuffed arm chair. Why are they always overstuffed? I sighed, though I saw a cat curled up in the chair, its bright green eyes glittering in the light of the small flame. I took a step back.

"Don't worry, he's nice." Erik's voice sounded beside me. I looked and there he was, as though he had just poofed there… Erik approached the cat and picked the fur ball up. He brought the black cat over to me.

"This is Christine, Bocifilus. She'll be staying with us for a little while." Erik spoke to the cat as though it were a person. I couldn't say much myself though, I would talk to my cat. The cat stretched towards me a bit and Erik handed him over. I took the cat in my arms and he snuggled closer to my neck, I smiled. Erik saw this and laughed a little, petting the cat still.

For awhile, when you're happy, you forget your worries. Only to remember them when your past comes back to haunt you. And its like a kick in the teeth. Though, being with Erik, might just be worth a kick in the teeth.


	3. Chapter 3

I sat down on the couch, putting in my ear buds, I blared Disturbed in my ears. I closed my eyes and hummed along to the beat. Leaning my head against the back of the leather couch, I felt at utter peace.

I felt that blue gaze on me after a while. I opened my right eye slightly, seeing I wasn't just being paranoid, he really was looking at me. I sat up a bit and pulled an ear bud out.

"Do you sing?" He asked. I hoped he wasn't trying to turn me into his Christine. No way I was going to become some scared little Prima Donna, hell no.

"Not since my Dad. I was a kid then, my voice wasn't fully developed, it probably sucks now." I told him. Erik gave a bit of a frown. In fact, I lied to him; my voice had fully developed when I was eleven. I don't know how it happened, it just did. I won the talent show every year. I eventually got banned. My dad would always laugh and pat me on the shoulder.

"That just means you're amazing, pumpkin." He told me when he saw my watery eyes when I came home eighth grade year after I was told I couldn't compete.

"Why don't we see if your voice is still good?" Erik asked. I closed my eyes and huffed.

"Listen, I'm not Christine, if you're gunna try to turn me into her, then I'll just get my bag and leave now." I told him, trying not to sound mean, but it came out anyway.

"No, I'm not, it would just be nice to have someone else sing." He told me quietly, looking at the piano keys. Great, now I feel like an uber bitch.

"Can it be a song I can actually sing? I have a piece in my bag for piano." I told him, Erik looked at me and nodded. I smiled and went to my given room and dug out the music sheet. Finding it, I returned to Erik, he took the music sheet from me, reading the title.

"Memories." He said simply.

He read the music; Erik set the sheet up on the piano and started to play the entrance. I waited for the time for the lyrics to start.

* * *

><p><em>In this world you tried <em>

_ Not leaving me alone behind. _

_ There's no other way. _

_ I prayed to the gods let him stay._

_ The memories ease the pain inside, now I know why._

_ All of my memories keep you near. _

_ In silent moments imagine you here. _

_ All of my memories keep you near. _

_ Your silent whispers, silent tears. Made me promise I'd try To find my way back in this life. I hope there is a way To give me a sign you're ok. Reminds me again it's worth it all _

_ So I can go on. _

_ All of my memories keep you near. _

_ In silent moments imagine you here. _

_ All of my memories keep you near. _

_ Your silent whispers, silent tears. _

_ Together in all these memories I see your smile. _

_ All the memories I hold dear. _

_ Darling, you know I will love you Until the end of time. _

_All of my memories keep you near. _

_In silent moments imagine you here. All of my memories keep you near. _

_Your silent whispers, silent tears. _

**_All of my memories..._**

**_..._**

* * *

><p>"You are phenomenal. What on Earth would make you think you are a bad singer?" Erik asked, appalled by my understatement.<p>

"I lost my father, my mother acted like I was trash. You of all people know that makes someone feel useless. Worthless." I told him. Erik looked back down at the keys.

"True. But you're here to change all that." He told me. I nodded. I turned away and sat back down on the couch and listened to Listen to Your Heart by DHT. I felt like singing again. Erik had woken that fire in me. The fire that burned with a yearn to sing. I didn't though. I closed my eyes and sighed. I muttered the lyrics, tears coming to my eyes as I mouthed the lyrics. Arms wrapped around me, Erik, so warm and cuddly, with his gentle ways. I hugged him back and rest my head on his shoulder.

I remembered how it was when my Father would always do this for me, the thought usually comforted me, but today it didn't really help. I gripped his shirt a bit tighter.

After a while, I managed to compose myself.

"I'm sorry." I told him. Erik shook his head.

"No, its fine. No one was there to let me cry on their shoulder, I know how painful that is. I don't want you going through the same thing any longer." He told me with a warm look in his gentle eyes. I smiled.

"Thank you." I told him. Erik gave a small smile. The masked man stood and walked away, I heard him go up the steps. I sighed. I felt like a complete and total idiot. What was I doing there, this guy was a complete stranger, for all I knew he could be a serial rapist or something along those lines and I was letting him take care of me. He could've slipped date rape in my lunch! Though, he seemed so nice, and caring. Maybe, some strangers were better than the people I should trust? If this guy really was Erik from Phantom of the Opera, than he was a murdering psycho who threatened to blow up a third of Paris is a girl didn't say she loved him.

So why was I trusting him again? Because he said he wanted to help me? The more I thought about it, the dumber this sounded.

Wait, didn't I say I wanted to die in the first place, so living with a murdering psycho actually kind of made sense to me. Though, I was convinced I really wasn't crazy, that I just thought that, but if I was willing to stay with a murderer. Then wouldn't that make me crazy, because any sane person would run? Then, was I really crazy? I furrowed my brow in thought.

Erik came down the stairs, walking into the kitchen and started to clean up. He didn't act like a psycho. He was nice and kind. Caring. I gave a huff. Why was he doing this? I was a simple crazy southern rebel from the Appalachian Mountains that somehow in a 1 out of 1000 chance made to France because of my strung out mother. He could've just left me alone to die like I wanted, like others had done to him. So why, would he even care about me? A perfect stranger. I got up off the couch and went into the kitchen. Erik was busying himself with the various pots and pans that needed cleaning because of the early mishap.

"Erik?" I asked him, he gave a simple 'hmm?' and turned to face me.

"Why did you take me in?" I asked him. Erik looked from me to the wall.

"Perhaps it is to right the wrongs done to me by others. Or just to remind myself that I am not the only person out there who at one point in life wanted to simply die. Or, because, you remind me of her. Lost and confused, stumbling into an unfamiliar place blindly. Pain riddling your heart, just as she had. Or maybe, I just wanted to." He told me, turning away. Successfully not answering my question. Reminding me of V from V for Vendetta. Both masked men hiding from the world. V trying to make the world a better place. Erik, just trying to avoid hate. To completely different but similar men.

"Do you expect to accept that as an answer?" I asked him.

"I prefer you to choose one." He told me. I groaned. Glaring at the back of his head. He gave a sort of a chuckle.

"How do I know if it's right?" I asked. Erik laughed again, rinsing a pan and placing it in the dishwasher.

"Time will tell child, only time will tell." He told me, once more, reminding me of V. Maybe the creators of that movie met Erik and based V off him. Too much of an odd coincidence to make it impossible. I smiled.

"Alright, then I'll wait." I told him. Erik nodded.

"How long will you wait?" He asked.

"As long as it takes, I suppose." I replied. I couldn't see his face, but something told me he was smiling.

"Even after those couple of weeks are over, Christine?" He asked me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe." I told him.

"Ahh, we shall see, mademoiselle, we shall see." He told me, he went up on the crazy meter just a notch with that comment.


	4. Chapter 4

The door to my bed opened up and the light was flicked on. I had stayed up all night the previous night. Erik had gone to bed at about two. That was twelve hours ago, I had crashed at six o'clock. It was one now.

"Come on, Christine, get up." Erik told me, separating the curtains that separated the me from the overhead light. I growled and covered my eyes with a pillow. Erik took my pillow.

"Come now, I can function on less than an six hours of sleep. I'm taking you to town." He told me, his masked face appearing in my eyesight. I glared at him.

"Fine." I groaned, Erik smiled and left the room. I put the pillow back over my eyes and turned over.

"After ten more minutes." I muttered. I heard Erik shuffling around the living room through my open bedroom door.

"HEY!" A couch pillow hit my stomach harmlessly and I sat up, looking into the living room. Erik stood with his arms spread out in a question manner.

"Christine, there is no way that you don't want to get out after being cooped up in here for a week." He said disbelieving. I shrugged laying back down.

"Public really isn't my thing." I told him, staring up at the canopy. Erik laughed.

"Please, I'm a disfigured ex-hermit. I go out at least once a week, please Christine, don't make me go out by myself again." He begged. I turned over and looked at him from the bed, he was sitting down on his piano bench, his elbow resting on his knee and his unmasked cheek propped on the ball of his hand. His metallic blue eyes watching me curiously. My breathing stopped for a second. What did he look like, under that mask? I wonder…

I unwillingly threw the blankets off my body and swung my legs over the side of my bed. I looked at him. A look he returned through his eyelashes, Erik stood up and turned away. I shrugged and rubbed my eyes. Then ran my hands through my hair. Then all of a sudden lost the will to get up and fell back in bed. Erik scoffed and stood.

"Are you really that tired or are you just lazy?" He asked. I smiled at him.

"I'd say a mix of both." I told him. Erik smiled and walked to my room, leaning against the doorway, silhouetted.

"Thirty more minutes." He told me as he tapped his wrist watch, I smiled and flipped over, pulling the blankets over my head and went back to sleep.

~That Very Evening~

We walked through the small park of the town nearest us. I was holding a few slices of stale bread from the bakery down the road for the ducks. We had eaten supper there. I had felt happy, I still was, weightless, like I was actually just a kid. Erik was slowly changing my life. Making me happier, careless. Free. I had started to sing again. I was happy.

Coming to the pond I reached in the bag and broke a piece of break off and crumbled it in my fist. I came up to the edge and sprinkled the crumbs on the water's surface and retreated to Erik, who was sitting on the grassy knoll in front of the pond while the ducks swam over to eat the crumbs.

"I don't think coming over here was a good idea." Erik told me. I looked at him.

"Why not?" I asked him. Erik nodded towards the eating ducks.

"Where do you think they'll come after they get done with that round?" Erik asked me. My eyes widened.

"Where the source is. And if you approach them now, they'll take it as a threat. Why don't we just leave before they come after us? Crumble the bread up and leave it here." Erik told me standing. I nodded and left the bread for the ducks. Erik led the way down to the path. He walked tall and proud, with his head held up high. I smiled. He was so proud. I was mesmerized by him.

"How did you find that old opera house?" I asked him. He gave me an aged look. I shifted my gaze to the ground.

"I just travelled around France for a while, looking for a refuge and I found that place. I restored it and ran it until Opera lost its luster and the old place closed down. I built a cabin behind it and stayed there, I was alone, accept the old man down the street until you showed up. You came roaring by James' home towards the opera house and he hobbled his way down to the cabin and told me he thought you were going to stop at the opera house. He was right. If I had not shown up when I did, do you think you would still be alive today?" He asked. I looked back at him, then wrapping my jacket around me tighter, sighing.

"Probably not. I was about to go 'ram my Mustang into a tree' right as you spoke to me." I told him, not looking at Erik. He was quiet. I looked around, seeing a father picking his daughter up and walking out of the park. It made my heart ache some, I missed my own father. I gave a bit of a huff, frowning.

Erik tapped my shoulder and turned around; we were heading out of the park. I followed him and we found the car in the parking lot. We got in. I put on my seat belt and Erik looked at me before he started the car. I returned his look and frowned.

"What?" I asked him, he gave me a type of loving look and then started the car, turning to watch where he was going while he back out of the parking place.

"Now was that so bad? Was it worth all the trouble you gave me this morning?" Erik asked me I laughed, smiling.

"Maybe." I told him, Erik laughed some himself. He turned around when he got out into the road. I looked at the radio, Erik never turned on the radio when he drove. I looked at him, he focused on the road.

"Why don't you ever listen to the radio?" I asked him. Erik smiled.

"I figured you would ask that eventually. I don't find the music of today, pleasing, its poorly written and trashy." He told me, glancing at me quickly.

"Then why not listen to the classical music channels?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"The stations are staticky and to be honest, it seems to me that they all sound the same and run together, in other words, it gets boring." Erik told me, I nodded.

"Okay." I said. Erik chuckled again.

"You think I'm crazy." He said. I smiled.

"I've always thought you were crazy." I told him in reply. He shook his head.

"Be careful with what you say. I am the one that takes care of you." He told me, I laughed shaking my head.

"Even if you are the Phantom of the Opera, excuse me, were, I think you've lost your edge. If you were the Phantom of the Opera, from the rumors I've heard, anyone that floated onto your 'turf' you killed. I did that same thing. If you were still the 'Phantom' character I would be dead." I told him. He frowned.

"I hate it that you have a point." He said quietly, signaling his turn. I smiled.

"I'm just playing with you, Erik." He looked at me, smiling, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I know."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Celtic: *too busy trying to get heart back under control to tell the awesomely witty disclaimer because I thought been deleted permanently off the internet***

**Erik: *watches with concerned look* Um The reason she thought that had been deleted was because her internet browser said that the 'gate way' was bad… Anyways…. Celtic decided she should start doing disclaimers but she's a bit busy right now so I think I have to do it. So, Miss Authoress does not own Phantom of the Opera. But she's made it very clear that she wants to.**

I stared out the window at the tree line, as though expecting something to come out from the condensed trees. It was true; I was. I was waiting for Erik. The masked man had disappeared into the green house that was snuggled further into the trees. I didn't know why I was waiting for him. All I knew was that there was a super mega monstro sized cat in my lap. The feline was whole lot of fur and a whole lot of cat too. It was hilarious every time I looked at him. He was big and he had an attitude. In other words, my kind of cat. Fat and sassy.

I sat with my feet propped up on the wide window sill in front of the window that took up half the friggen' wall. Erik was in the green house for about an hour now. I didn't know what he did. Though I didn't understand why exactly I was suspicious either. But I was. I never went with him in fear of Erik coming to the conclusion that I was clingy.

I scratched Mega's ear and chin. It received a very strong and rumbly pure from the cat. I could see his whiskers tremble. That's how hard he purred. I smiled.

I had been sitting at Erik's piano; numbly looking at the worn keys one night. The owner of the house had been out and I was alone for a while. I was about to play when the door had opened and in came Erik with a carrier that was emitting low and angry growls. I recall the look on his face was comparable to that in which if a man had discovered time travel.

He had set the animal carrier down and opened it. A big golden furry blur bolted out of the carrier and towards me at the speed of light. Before I knew it there was a massive cat in my lap, yowling, hissing and spitting at the masked man across the room.

"He doesn't like me much, do he?" Erik asked; showing me his scratched arms. My jaw dropped and I'm pretty sure my eyes bugged out of my skull a little.

"What is it with you and picking up things that oh so clearly don't want to be taken in!" I said, suppressing a few giggles.

"You 'oh so clearly' did want to be taken in; not by me necessarily. But still. And he was going to be put down. I volunteer at the animal shelter; he's perfectly healthy. But… as you can see… he isn't very friendly." Erik told me. I raised an eyebrow and looked down at my lap. The golden and black speckled cat was now asleep in my lap.

"He seems to like me enough." I said, running a hand through his golden fur.

And that was how I met Mega. His full name was Mr. Mega Monstro Kitty Darenz. Darenz came from me. That's my last name. He was swatting at the wire of my ear bud as I bobbed my head slightly. I shook my head, causing him to swat faster. I stroked his fur. Still no sign of Erik. It was so weird. He was so mysterious. I suppose it was long left-overs from his days as the Opera Gh- WHAT? No way was I starting to believe that! I shook my head and continued to pet Mr. Mega.

After I got tired of just sitting and waiting for Erik to return I gathered Mr. Mega in my arms and put him down, standing and trying to get the golden cat fur off my black sweat pants to no avail. I gave up on that and slipped on my flats and went outside. I didn't care if Erik thought I was clingy.

I walked through the woods until I came to the greenhouse. The thought that Erik came out here just to be alone come across my mind and I stopped dead in my tracks. I took a step back and walked back towards the cottage. But the door to the green house opened.

"Something you need Christine?" He asked. I turned, wrapping my jacket around me a little tighter. I gave a nervous smile and tossed my hair to the side; it was getting in my eyes a lot, so I tended to just swish it out of the way.

"No… I just… heh… I'm gunna go back to the cottage." I said, pointing over my shoulder. Erik raised him eyebrow as he wiped his hands clean with a rag.

"Why don't you come in here and warm up for a little while before heading back through the woods." It was more a command then a request. And I had no choice, so I did and I went back the distance to the steps up to the green house door and Erik went in, I followed.

The garden was full of massive rose bushes. Like legit, the bushes were almost twice my height and were dotted with massive rose blooms that were as wide as half my face. My eyes bugged just seeing them.

"Wow, you are crazy talented aren't you?" I asked him; going over to the nearest bush and gently caressing the velvet of one of the roses' petals. Erik had knelt at a barren patch of soil upturning it with a trowel. He looked at me from the dark, probably nutrient rich, soil.

"If you've been alive as long as I have you tend to perfect certain skills. Music had become as flawless as it could get. It amazes me. When I thought music could never be perfected. I found myself not getting any better after 40 years. So I moved onto this. But gardening is heading in the same direction as music is quite fast." He told me. I never thought that someone could sound so bored with what they considered sheer perfection.

I sat down on the ground watching him intently. He gave me a glance every so often. I played with a piece of broken stem.

"What do you plan on doing after you have perfected this?" I asked. Erik remained silent for a few moments' time.

"When I realized I was going no further with the music. I fell into a depressed slump. I sat for 20 years just sitting in darkness. I hope that there is something else to keep me occupied when that time comes." He told me. Another question came to mind.

"What were you thinking when you found that you weren't aging?" I asked. This time, Erik went rigid. His eyes flashed. Causing me to become a little fearful.

"Please go. I feel I'm about to lose my composure and that is something I don't want you to see." He said a little too calmly for my liking. I listened and fled the green house. I nearly screamed when there was a loud crash. And an inhuman agonized scream ripped into the air. I had just struck something I definitely wasn't supposed to. And my heart broke for him.

I sat cuddling with Mega in the darkness of my room. I had my door closed and for once my handy dandy IPod was lying across the room in the arm chair next to the fireplace. Mega purred heavily and was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"I feel so bad, Mega. He's been nothing but kind to me and I've just hurt him. Really bad." I said, tears pricking my eyes.

"At least you feel bad about it." I jumped at the sound of Erik's voice. I looked to him and put the cat down, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Are you going to ask me to leave?" I asked, insecurely hugging myself.

"Of course not. It was only a matter of time before you asked that now that I think about it. You could've done worse." He said, touching his mask as he came over to the bed and sat down. He was greeted by a very angry hiss and a swat from Mega. I scolded the cat and the fat fluff ball ran under the bed.

"I'm super sorry. I don't even feel like that can cover it." I told him. Erik gave a small smile.

"You're fine. Children tend to be curious and don't think things through all the way before they do or say something." Erik said. I felt stupid now, thanks, Erik.

"Look I won't ask anything else about anything from your past." I told him. Erik nodded.

"I accept that. If you're around long enough I'll sit you down and tell you the whole story." He told me.

"Even the details that weren't released to the public." He told me, he stood and left.

**A/N: Okay, I think I'm good. But I have to thank AnAngelofMusic for reading this story and making me feel like getting off my lazy butt and writing a chapter for this story! So thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

Details not unleashed to the public? Mega came out from under the bed and curled up in my lap. I pet him lovingly as I watched Erik sit down at the piano. I felt bad. I just wanted to hug him and hold him. But I didn't; I merely watched him run his hands over the keys. I frowned as his elegant hands slid from the keys and slid the cover down over them in a sad longing fashion.

"Do you have a taste for anything tonight?" Erik asked, looking over his shoulder. My attention snapped.

"Uh, no I don't think so." I replied. Erik stood from the bench and went into the kitchen. The clang of pots and pans echoed through the house.

"You said you were American, right?" He asked. I stood putting Mega down and going into the kitchen.

"Uh, yeah. But I've been all over." I told him. Erik gave a faint smile.

"The stories I could tell you from my travels around the world." He told me, I sat down at the table, watching him in an absent sort of way. He continued on with his task. The black form of Bociflus jumped up onto the counter. Erik looked at the cat.

"And who do you think you are?" He asked the cat. The feline merely meowed at him and pawed at the air.

"Christine do you mind getting the cat off the counter for me?" He asked. He was cutting bell pepper so he more than likely didn't want to do it himself. I nodded and walked over to the counter and grabbed the cat. I set him down on the floor in the living room and went back into the kitchen and watched Erik expertly cut the pepper.

"You know I've never really been to America. I think I did when I was very young; but I hardly remember it. Your accent is what made me remember." He told me. He had suddenly switched to English.

"I can tell you sometimes struggle with your French. I've taught myself English. That was one of the hardest languages I ever saw. Are you aware of this?" Erik asked. His voice was hinted with a pleasantly light French accent. I smiled and hung my head.

"I am. I remember one day I was looking at a sheet of paper I had filled up. And I was bored so I was legitimately studying the words. I thought 'English is so flat out WEIRD!'" I told him. Erik smiled; it was oh so charming. It was also the first time he had smiled for about a week.

"Wait… how long have I been here?" I asked, looking to meet Erik's eyes. He stopped, looking down at the cutting board. His eyes going everywhere but my own.

"A month and a half." He said simply a bit of guilt in his voice. I looked down, my mother. Was she worried? Did she even care? Was she happy that I was gone? I didn't know what to do. I told myself I would forget. That I wouldn't care. No matter what.

"Is there like a television or recent newspaper I can look at? I at least want to be up to date with the outside world." I told him.

"I think James has a television in his home. If you like I can take you there to watch the news." Erik told me. I nodded.

"Thanks." I told him. Erik didn't respond.

We came up to the old house. An elderly gentleman was sitting on the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth in the mid-winter evening. I titled my head slightly at the man. Erik went up the stairs and walked over to the elder. He knelt and spoke softly to him. James nodded and stood with the help of Erik and a weathered cane.

"Come on in, I'll get the news on." He told me. I walked up the steps after Erik who disappeared inside. The small house had the same charm as that of an older gentleman. Like the one who owned it. The television was on and commercials were playing. I sat down beside Erik on the couch a few feet away. He watched me from the corner of his eye. I ignored it and looked to the floor. I then shifted my gaze to the window. I stared at the old abandoned road. Hard to imagine I was tearing down it only a month and a half ago.

"Here it is." I heard Erik say. I looked to the television. They spoke of the weather. A snow front was coming. My eyes caught the small banner thing that always ran at the bottom of the television screen when the news was on. I didn't recognize anything. But then my name rolled across the screen.

_17 ans fille Christine Darenz toujours portées disparues._ It rolled across the screen and vanished my French wasn't broad enough for me to see what it meant. I looked to Erik. He seemed casual enough.

"Erik did you catch what was being said on the bottom of the screen?" I asked him. He looked to me.

"Oh, no. Why?" He asked. I looked to the ground.

"I saw my name." I told him. He immediately became forlorn.

"I'll watch it, it'll come back around and I'll translate for you." He told me. I sighed through my nose, closing my eyes. What if my mother was looking for me? What if she reported me missing? What would I do? I couldn't just leave Erik. But I couldn't just abandon my mother. Damnit why was this hard?! She acts like she doesn't want me and then when I go missing I suddenly mean the world to her! Tears pricked my closed eyes. I fought back giving an angry growl. My heart hurt but I seethed with anger. I heard Erik give a bit of a painful sound.

"Seventeen year old Christine Darenz still missing. I believe your mother is actually… looking for you." He told me. I looked up with a snarl. I only stood and stormed out of the house and tore down the path leading to Erik's home. I stopped in the middle of the path and just snarled again.

"What the hell is her problem?! What I disappear and suddenly I'm her little Angel?! GAH! The heartless bitch! How can she do that to me! I can't believe this!" I screamed and fell to the ground. Why was everything always so complicated! Can't I just lead a normal life where stupid soap opera drama stays in the soap operas?! Evidently not! I growled and stood back up. I didn't even know where to go. Back to James' home or to Erik's cabin. Or home? I turned. Erik stood there.

"Come with me." I told him and started off towards the abandoned opera house.

"Where are you going?" Erik asked.

"We are going to go see my mother." I told him. I could tell Erik stopped.

"To do what exactly?" He asked.

"I don't know." I told him, turning to look at him. He looked worried.

"But… Christine I can't let you do that." He told me. I gave him a bewildered look.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you'll stay if you go back and I can't stand being abandoned again. James coming closer to death's door every minute that's passing. I'll be alone if you leave. Do you think I can handle that?" He asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Erik, I promise you I won't abandon you. I'm not her." I said and turned continuing on. I heard Erik follow after me. I came up to my Mustang and got in. I grabbed the keys from my pocket and started the car. Erik gave me an uncomfortable glance as I started the car and pulled out onto the road.


	7. Chapter 7

We sped down the road as I mentally prepared myself to have another confrontation with my mother. Erik watched me, I wasn't looking at him, but I felt his gaze. It was something I had come to learn to do.

"If you want me to I'll fight for custody." He told me. The surprised gasp that followed what he said told me that he hadn't meant to say that.

"Um, no, thanks though. I appreciate it though." I told him.

"I understand." He replied. I pulled onto the road I lived on before I realized it. I went down the long hardly populated road and turned into my mile long driveway. I really slowed down, and then stopped all together. I stared ahead at the wooded area I could hardly see my house through the trees.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked.

"Yes and no. But I'm already here so I might as well go through with it. She's probably too damn drunk to even remember I came by after I leave." I said and gassed the car a little. We came around the bend and I stopped the car. The house stood as it always did, seemingly sad. It witnessed a mother's loss of love for her daughter, drunken beatings, and a girl running away. I opened the door.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Erik asked. I looked down at him.

"No." I told him and closed the door behind me and walked up the steps. I opened the door; it was unlocked, as usual. I walked through the kitchen and past the threshold separating the kitchen and dining room from the living room. I entered the living room and stopped. My mother sat on the couch, a half empty bottle of scotch on the end table. I glared at her.

"What is the only reason you wanted me back is so you can have back your punching bag?" I spat. She looked to me.

"Always with the mouth. You are so ungrateful. I take you to see the world and settle in one of the best countries in the world. You beat me and leave. Then come back and the first thing out of your mouth is an insult." She told me. I rolled my eyes.

"You act like you're a freaking saint. All you've ever done since Dad died is hurt me. All I've ever asked for since Dad died is for someone to take care of me and act like they wanted me around. I'm done with you. I'm old enough to be out on my own; so take down those alerts and leave me alone! Do you hear me?" I hissed. She stood and came at me. I grabbed her arm and pinned her to the wall.

"Do you want to do this again?" I growled. She stared into my eyes.

"Like I said; just to be clear, take down those alerts or I will tell ALL of France what you really are." I told her and left the house. I went back to the car and put it into gear, turning around.

"I see you are unharmed." Erik told me. I nodded.

"What did you say?" He asked.

"I told her that she should take down the alerts or I would tell all of France who she was. I told her that I'm out on my own now." I told him. He huffed.

"Are you really out on your own now?" He asked.

"No. I told you I wasn't leaving. Not until we're both healed. You're hurt too. We can both help each other. Okay?" I told him.

"You're right. I need help as well. I think you showing up in the Thompson Opera is fate. For once I think it's as black and white as it seems." He told me.

"Maybe." I replied softly. I sighed and pulled over.

"Can you drive? I'm way too jittery to drive." I asked. Erik nodded and got out of the car. I just slid across the front of the car careful of the stick shift. I curled up in the passenger seat. It was dark by now, I could hardly see anything outside, the outline of the trees sat and stared forlorn in the darkness of the early evening light. Erik opened the door and sat down. He huffed and put the car into drive. He pulled onto the road.

"Are you alright?" He asked. I flinched.

"I'll be fine. I just want to go to bed." I said quietly. He didn't say anything but started down the road a little faster.

"We'll be there soon." He said.

"I also just want what's left of my family to love me. Is that asking too much?" I asked. Erik was silent. I closed my eyes and let a single tear roll down my face. I was so tired of it.

"No."

* * *

><p>I must've fallen asleep, because I woke up on my bed Mega was on my stomach and it was three in the morning. I heard the piano playing, then an abrupt racket of unharmonious notes. I shoved Mega off of me, he groaned in an annoyed way. I sat up; the door was opened and Erik was clearly stressed. He was tugging at his jet black hair his head down. I stood and went into the living room and sat down in the arm chair.<p>

"You remind me so much of myself when I was a child. It isn't because of Christine's memory that I took you in. Why would I take you because of her? All that would've done to me was harm. I took you in because of me. Your life was an almost exact replica of mine. But you're beautiful. What kind of person would want to smother that? It hurts me more to think about your life than it does to think about mind. I find it so hard that someone is capable of drowning out such beauty." He told me. I sat and listened to him. He sounded so tired. I stood up and went over to him.

"You should go to bed, Erik; you're exhausted." I told him, grabbing his arm. He finally looked to me, making eye contact with his ice blue eyes. I stopped, the glint they held instantly freezing me on the spot. He stood up, grabbing my upper arms. I realized he was drunk. My heart broke. Him too? A slave to the poison that is alcohol? Tears pricked my eyes and tore from his grasp. I ran out of the cottage, grabbing my keys on the ways out. I got into my Mustang; but I couldn't find it in me to leave. All I could do was glare angrily at the steering wheel. I screamed and started to pound the grip of the steering wheel.

"WHY! WHY GOD DAMN IT!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and tore out of the car; I grabbed the nearest thing and threw it. The glass of the driver's side door shattered. I glared at it. Then screamed again in agony.

Snow drifted down and I could barely hear the big fat flakes landing everywhere. I glared up at the opera house. I just was seething again. Anger was all I knew whether I acted at peace or not! It was in my being and entwined with my soul. If it were to go; I would be nothing more than a weakened shell. I would be like Erik. I looked back to the direction of the cottage and made my way to the hidden abode. I felt ashamed for leaving that way.

As I approached the cottage a heard an outraged roar. Then the sound of ugly unorganized notes echoed from the house. The window shattered and a bottle of alcohol flew out of the window. I had to duck to avoiding getting hit in the head. It shattered on the ground behind me. I had to do something.

"THAT IS THE LAST TIME I LOSE SOMEONE BECAUSE OF MY DAMNED ADDICTIONS!" It may sound a little humorous now that I think about it, but the agony in his voice was so overwhelming my soul sunk more than it ever had.

I walked up the steps and into the cottage and stopped. Holy Cow. The place was in a mess, how he done THAT much damage in only ten minutes had been beyond me. But I ignored it. I should've paid more attention to the white mask on the piano.


	8. Chapter 8

I walked around the house, jumping when I heard a shatter from upstairs. I stopped, the door to Erik's room was open, the light from his room fell across the hall and hit the wall opposing the doorway. I stepped up onto the first stair.

"Erik?" I called out. No reply, just painful sobbing, it hurt to listen to it. I dared the second step, calling his name again. Still no reply. I almost stopped not taking the third step. I braved it though.

"Hey, um, Erik. I didn't leave. I'm still here." I called. I took a few more steps. I saw him, his room was in a horrible mess and he was sitting against the foot board of his king-sized bed. His face was in his hands and his muffled sobs made my heart crack with every utterance.

"E-Erik." I called. One hand left his face, but he kept the right side of his face hidden. His ice blue eyes stared at me in disbelief.

"You're still here?" He asked, standing. I nodded.

"Y-yeah. It wouldn't be right to leave." I told him. Erik turned walking across his room; with his back turned to me his took his hand away from his face and adorned a mask. He turned; it was a black half mask that brought out his blue eyes intensely.

"I apologize for what happened earlier." He told me. I nodded, not sure what much else to do. I couldn't say he shouldn't apologize. Alcohol ruined my life. It took my loving mother and turned her into a heartless bitch. I didn't want to lose him to alcohol too.

"I'm gunna go back to bed now. So um, good night." I told him awkwardly and started back down the steps. I sent him a glance from behind. He was starting to remove his mask. I looked back down to avoid seeing his deformity, if he were to find out I snuck a peek at it, he would be so angry with me.

Mega sat at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me. He yelled at me and pranced on to my room. I huffed and followed the fluff ball to my room and closed the door behind me. I started to take off my clothes and put on my pajamas and settle back into bed, snuggling with Mega.

I woke the next morning to the loud clanging of glass hitting glass. I stretched, popping my back. I moved Mega off me and left my room and went towards the ruckus. I walked into the kitchen and saw Erik pouring a bottle of amber liquid down the drain; the trash can already had a few bottles in it. I walked over to him and watched the alcohol swirl down the drain.

"No one has ever had the effect you have on me. Not even the late Countess De Chagney." He told me. Christine, he refused to say her name. I hugged him tightly.

"Thank you." I told him and left to go get dressed. Mega met me in my room, yowling at me rudely for not having fed His Majesty. I giggled and fed him; he basically attacked the wet food and I went to my wardrobe.

"How much longer do you want to stay? I know our deal is almost up...but I wouldn't really mind if you stayed longer." He told me. I stopped. I didn't want to leave him. I wanted to stay

"I don't know." I told him. I wanted to say I hadn't really felt all that better. The world was cold and harsh. And Erik wasn't he was warm and inviting and he wanted me around. I picked up Mega and pet him.

"We'll breakfast will be ready in a few minutes" Erik told me. I didn't reply; but I pulled on the rest of my clothes and I left my room with Mega at my ankles. I came into the kitchen/dining room area and sat down at the table watching Erik beat eggs.

"You like omelets right?" He asked.

"It kind of depends on what's inside." I told him. He sent me a smirk over his shoulder at me. I smiled and looked down shyness making me do so. What the heck?

"What do you want in your omelet, Mademoiselle Darenz?" He asked a little teasingly.

"Cheese and bacon I guess. You have that right?" I asked, Erik laughed.

"After living with you for two months I am ready and prepared for your obsessions with cheese and bacon." Erik told me as he went to the fridge and pulled out the requested ingredients. I smiled and toyed with my fingers.

"Do you, or have you played an instrument? You have the perfect hands for any instrument. You could have been a musical prodigy." He told me.

"Could have been?" I asked.

"Well I started when I was young. There isn't an instrument I can't play. But if you haven't played an instrument before now I don't think you would be able to reach true prodigy, dearest. No offense." He told me. I shrugged. I slouched in my chair.

"No problem." I told him. Erik smiled as he turned to make the omelet. I pulled on the table cloth gently. Erik sent occasional looks at me over his shoulder. I looked around trying to ignore those random teasing glances. He eventually turned, sliding an omelet onto a plate and handing it to me with a smile on his face. He was super chipper.

"You know you're in a really good mood." I told him. Erik looked at me over his shoulder again.

"Really?" He asked. I nodded.

"Um, yeah. Like crazy happy; it's almost annoying." I told him. Erik gave a laugh.

"I'm sorry dearest." He told me. He went to the fridge and pulled the orange juice out. He got down a glass and filled it up; and set it down in front of me.

"Eat; eggs aren't any good when they're cold." He told me. I picked up my fork and cut into the omelet happily. It was amazing and I almost groaned at the last of the amazingness. Erik gave a bit of a throaty laugh as he sat down with a cup of coffee and his own omelet. He ate his own omelet in silence, not looking at me; having observed that I felt awkward when someone even glanced at me when I ate. I eventually finished my amazing fluffy omelet and took it to the sink and washed my dishes. Erik eventually came over with his own plate. I took it and washed them for him. I had to stop moping around and let Erik do all the work. If I was going to live with him I was going to carry my own weight.

Erik smiled at me with a wink.

"When you get done with the dishes come to the piano I want to teach you the basics of piano." He told me. I nodded and went on with the dishes.

After I finished the dishes I went and met my host in the living room. He slid over and allowed me to sit beside him.

"You learn by watching people." He told me. "I've figured this out by watching and studying your behavior." He told me. I shook my head.

"You must have been super bored." I replied. He laughed, giving me an unfamiliar yet warm look.

"What makes you come to that conclusion?" He asked. I smiled.

"All I do is read stories on my IPod, listen to music, and stare into oblivion." I told him he laughed again. I don't know why every word that came out of my mouth was humorous to Erik but whatever.

We sat at the piano together for a hour and a half and ended with learning the G position. Erik was obviously annoyed but he denied it. I could tell by the flush of his face. I stood to go to the couch, my handy dandy IPod waiting for my patiently and sat down, losing myself in my own little world


	9. Chapter 9

I played an intermediate song piece while Erik read a book in the armchair in the corner. He had a thoughtful look on his face. He seemed to enjoy someone else playing. I was glad he enjoyed my playing. Erik was actually impressed with me. He said I was a very good student and if I worked long enough I would actually be able to become a master pianist. I eagerly wanted to be able to play the way he could. Every time he played I was completely enthralled in the music that flowed forth from the piano.

"That's a G, Christine. You're playing an F go up one." He told me his voice soft. I looked at him and nodded and went back to the beginning of the line and fixed my mistake. I heard Erik's quiet hum of approval that I had hit the correct key. I continued on until the end of the song.

"That's good, Christine. It didn't take you long to nearly master the piece. If you practice a little more you'll be able to move onto the next piece I have for you. I composed it myself a while back for someone about your level. It may be just a bit challenging, but I have faith that you can do it." He told me. I smiled a bit bashfully. I was his pupil. Just like her. I couldn't help but wonder; had he learned his lesson, or would we end up in the same place as with the late Christine de Chagney?

I stood from the piano bench and went to my bedroom. I looked to the calendar. I had been here longer than I had originally wanted. But I didn't want to leave anymore. I sent a glance to the man in the chair in the living room. What would he do if I did leave? I saw his initial reaction. But what would the long term reaction be? Sometimes I didn't want to think about it; others I just told myself that if he made it this far he could make it farther. If I were to ever leave him, I would kick myself. This man saved me at my time of need. He's been in need for over a century. He just didn't show it.

But living with Erik has taught me very much about how to read him. He was still riddled with pain. I could tell by just watching him sit and read. It was in his posture. In his eyes. The man did not look old. But if you really stared into his eyes, something I had been able to do only once; you can see it. His age, his agony, every spiritual scar shadowed his eyes. The bright ice blue shade of those eyes was not enough to hide his agelessness.

And I asked myself several times; if he lived this long, how long will he live? How long is he destined to walk the earth? He asks himself that too. I can see it. With Erik, the eyes really are the gateway to the soul. I can see everything he thought about, everything that troubled him. He recently worried about how much longer I would stay. He would look at me with this longing in his eyes; he never thought I was looking. My bangs may be getting longer, but through the auburn hair I see him staring.

I gave a sigh as Mega jumped into my lap as I sat down on the bed. He meowed sassily and I pet him. I watched Erik. He was so strong. How had he made it through all the hell in his life was beyond me. I almost felt childish for wanting to kill myself over what had been done to me. His mother literally hated him, she locked him away; and when he finally escaped he was thrown head long into years of even more torture and ridicule.

I stood up and went back into the living room. He looked up at me from his chair, giving me a curious look. He stood, putting down his book.

"Is there a problem, Christine?" He asked. I hugged him, throwing my arms around his neck, a little more intimate than my usual around his waist hug.

"Thank you. You give me hope." I told him. Erik put his arms around me in a hesitant way. Like he was avoiding something. I pulled back and looked at him. He gave me a tight smile.

"I'm going to go to the garden; I wish to be alone for a little bit; so-"

"That's cool; I understand; go on. I'll just entertain myself with Mega or practice some music or something. I'll leave you alone until you come to me." I told him; going to my room. Erik watched me retreat, his eyes shadowed mysteriously. I went into my room and closed the door. He probably just wasn't used to that kind of affection or something. I sat down in my chair and went through my singing scales. My pristine voice echoed through the house and then I looked through my iPod looking for something to sing along to. I came to Roses on My Grave by Papa Roach. I figured that would do well, it fitted my mood at the time. I contently sang along to the beautiful song. I remember when I first found it how shocked I was to find it was by Papa Roach.

It had become one of my favorite songs instantly. I played it almost constantly after I first discovered it. I felt warm on the inside. My stomach was warm and bubbly. I smiled softly and pet Mega after the song ended. I gave a content huff and looked to the ceiling, singing along to the song that now played. It was Skillet. I smiled a little bit more; that band got me through a lot.

Before I knew it I had spent such about two hours in the midst of my mind, mulling over thoughts and trying to answer questions that I had. I was brought out of my mind with a knock at the door and the light of my room flicked on, revealing Erik. I smiled at him.

"Thank you for that, Cherie." He told me. I nodded at him, pulling my ear buds out and leaning forward. I gave him a curious look.

"Cherie?" I asked, Erik smiled gently.

"It's nothing." He replied. I knew 'cherie' meant sweet in French. I gave a slight huff and let him slide.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"About six thirty. Are you hungry?" Erik told me. I shrugged, looking at Mega, who was glaring at Erik intensely. I frowned.

"That isn't nice, Mega." I told him.

"I'm going to go ahead and make supper. You can eat whenever you want, how does that sound?" He told me. I nodded; the masked man turned and left my room. I stood and followed him. He entered the kitchen. I took my usual seat at the island and watched him go about the kitchen, gathering the things he needed for the meal. He turned to me.

"Could you go out to the garden and get me some rosemary. I forgot to grab some before I left." He told me. I nodded and left through the back door; pulling on my boots I scampered out onto the snow covered yard and jogged across the snow to the green house. I shook myself once I entered the slightly humid building and I headed for the rosemary. I grabbed a few steams and went back to the cabin.

Erik thanked me kindly and washed the herbs. I returned to my post and watched him as I usually did. Accept this time he seemed almost uncomfortable.

"When is your birthday, Christine?" He asked me. I tilted my head a little.

"February Eighteenth; I'll be turning eighteen." I told him.

"Next month." He said. I nodded, he hadn't been looking at me directly, just watching me from his peripheral vision; those ice blue eyes piecing.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up and got out of bed. I put on some day clothes and left my room pulling my hair up in a ponytail. My hair had gotten crazy long. It went down to my waist now if I didn't pull it up. With its length I didn't bother to straighten it out any, so I had curls galore. I had to hunt down a scrunchee because a mere hair band couldn't handle my hair. It took me a few seconds to realize what day it was. February 18, my birthday. I looked up, seeing Erik in his armchair. I was eighteen. I was officially an adult. He looked to me with a smile.

"Good morning, Christine, and happy birthday." He told me. I smiled at him.

'Thank you, Erik! It's been a few years since I've had a happy birthday." I told Erik, coming closer to him and hugging my kind host. He hugged me back, having gotten comfortable with my physical contact over the past month.

"Now what do you want to do for your birthday. It's your day. We'll do anything you wish." He told me, going into the kitchen. I smiled and followed him.

"Have a seat, Christine." He demanded in a playful way. I sat and waited patiently. Erik had recently discovered my love of waffles, and I assumed he was making those for breakfast. I smiled. I loved being taken care of. It was something I missed. I remember Papa used to sing 'Happy Birthday' to me while he made our special birthday breakfast. Chocolate chip waffles and hot chocolate with the works. I smiled fondly at the memory.

I snapped out of my memory when Erik placed a plate of waffles and fruit in front of me. He sat down beside me, he was chipper.

"You're a morning person aren't you?" I asked him. Erik laughed and looked at me.

"What makes you assume that, Christine?" He replied.

"How… happy you always are in the morning," I told him.

"I've been awake since about five thirty. I don't sleep too much." He told me. I shook my head; I picked up my fork and dug in happily. I nearly groaned with the amazingness of the waffles. Erik laughed.

"I take it you like the waffles." Erik told me, taking a drink from his coffee. I swallowed my bite then giggled.

"Yeah, you did a great job. I remember when my dad was alive he would make chocolate chip waffles and hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate syrup and caramel. He would sing happy birthday loud enough to wake me up." I told him. Erik chuckled.

"He seems like I man I would have made good friends with." Erik told me. I nodded.

"I think he would've liked you." I told him. Erik looked down to his plate.

"You know how I told you that you don't really look like Christine?" He asked me.

'Yeah, why?" I asked.

"You do. With how long your hair has gotten, and now that you aren't straightening it anymore." He told me.

"Oh, do I need to start straightening it again?" I asked, worried that I was opening my friends old wounds.

"No. You're fine. You look better this way." He told me, returning to his breakfast. I continued to watch him until he looked up again and I returned to my breakfast.

I looked like Christine. That didn't faze him? I didn't want to bring his past back to hurt him.

"It's so strange. You look like her... But your past is like Christine's and my own fused together. I still don't understand." He told me.

"Maybe it's the universe's way of telling you that you're not alone." I told him. Our eyes met; it was intense for some reason. His ice blue eyes pierced my soul deeply. I couldn't tear my gaze away. He looked like he wanted to say something.

"You know what?" I asked him.

"What?" He asked our intense moment passing.

"I don't feel like an adult." I told him. He smirked.

"Because you were already acting like one. Mentally you were pretty close, but now you're legally an adult. I felt the same way when I turned eighteen." He told me I realized just how open he was with me.

"How many people have you talked to about your past?" I asked. He looked at me over the edge of his coffee mug as he drank.

"Two; you and Antoinette Giry." He told me. I felt a little privileged.

"Oh." I told him. He smiled a little.

"Okay now that we've eaten breakfast it's time for your present." He told me, standing up and taking our empty plates and placing them in the kitchen sink.

"Erik you didn't have to get me anything. You've done so much already." I told him. He shushed me and disappeared around the corner. He made no attempt to silence his footsteps as he ran up the stairs in a giddy fashion. He was like a little kid. A few moments later he came back down the stairs and entered the room. His collectiveness and calm air had returned as he did so. The package was wrapped in shimmering green paper with a white bow. He set the box down in front of me with a smile.

"I hope you like it." He told me. I started to gingerly open the box.

"Just open it, dear. You don't have to be shy about it." Erik said charmingly, resting his head on the heel of his hand his eyes sparkled alluringly. I blushed a little and tore into the package. I was greeted by a brown package. I opened the flaps and saw the packaging peanuts. I reached in and my fingers lit on rounded glass. I gripped it and the base. I pulled it out and saw a snow globe. Inside was an angel and a girl about my age who looked a little like me.

"That way when you leave you can still have an angel watching over you." He told me as I stared at the small but beautifully detailed statues.

I put the snow globe in my room and went back out to the living room where he was waiting for me. He stood tall and proud with his arms behind his back.

"Now what does the Mademoiselle wish to do now?" He asked. I smiled gently.

"I don't know. You have anything in mind?" I asked him.

"Well no birthday is complete without birthday cake. I thought I would first take you to the store and let you pick one out. Then we could see if anything sparks your interest." He told me. I smiled.

"Sounds nice, Erik." I told him. He smiled kindly as he headed to the door.

"I certainly hope so. Now come along." He told me. I scurried to the door and slid on my flats and left the house with him. We got into his Solstice and we headed towards Paris. I watched the countryside pass by quietly. Erik was as well, not even the radio was on. I looked at him. He was focused on the road. His eyes of ice locked firmly on any upcoming twist, turn, or pothole in the road. His reflexes were quick yet smooth and the way he drove forced the car to hug the turns and zip down straight sections of road. He soon noticed my gaze; either that or he finally chose to say something about it.

"Anything on your mind, Christine?" He asked, not looking at me.

"Not really." I told him.

"Are you sure?" He asked. I smiled just a little. I looked back out to the road.

"You're never really good at hiding emotions." He told me.

"But I'm damn good at reading them." I told him, hoping to change the subject off of my emotions, in fear that I would accidently betray myself. He laughed quietly.

"And what makes you think that?" He asked.

"I can read you like a book. You're tense, a lot, and you stress a lot." I told him. He gave me a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"It's easy to pick up on those emotions." He told me.

"And happiness, you're content now. Your eyes are soft and you're shoulders are slack. You're relaxed, comfortable with me." I told him. He gave a small huff. His eyes flicking.

"Now you're embarrassed." I told him.

"You've proven your ability just fine Christine." He told me, slightly irritated. I giggled and finally did fall silent until we entered Paris city limits.

But I realized something as what he told me when he gave me my present finally registered. 'When I leave.' I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with him. But I knew I couldn't stay forever.


	11. Chapter 11

The Parisian streets rolled into sight, the Eiffel Tower stretching towards the sky in an elegant romantic way. I gave a small sigh of content.

"She is fantastic isn't she?" Erik asked me, nodding towards the Iron Lady. I nodded.

"Yeah, you watched it get built, didn't you?" I replied.

"Yes, I couldn't have done better myself." He said. I laughed softly at his reply.

"Of course you would bring your talents into this." I told him. He smiled charmingly and laughed gently.

"You make me sound as though I am arrogant, Mademoiselle Darenz." He told me.

"I have NO idea what you're talking about, Erik. I merely stated a fact." I told him sarcastically. He shook his head, his smile still spread across his face. Erik pulled into a parking place and turned off the car. We got out and I waited as he fed the meter.

"I was talking to James yesterday and he said he wants us to come to his house this evening, he wants to celebrate with us. I was thinking once we get done chauffeuring around Paris we could stop by a bakery and get a cake then we'll stop by his place when we're heading home." Erik said as he was digging through his pocket for the correct change.

"How long do you want to be out, Christine?" He asked me, sifting through the change in his palm.

"I don't want you desperately searching for change in order to traverse the town all day, four hours or so. Nothing too extravagant." I told him, digging through my satchel for the handful of change I threw in one of the pockets earlier. I found it and gave it to him. He took it with a grateful nod and smile.

"You shouldn't really have to pay for anything today. It's your birthday." Erik told me. I smiled and laughed softly.

"I'm eighteen, Erik. I'll be paying for everything sooner or later." I replied simply as he inserted the coins

"Four to five ours will do I suppose. Depends on where you want to go." Erik said.

"I think just walking around Paris would be nice. We could stop at a nice little restaurant and have lunch." I said, imagining a chicken salad sandwich on a warm, flaky and buttery croissant.

"Are you sure? I believe there is a matinee at the opera house." Erik said, checking his watch. I shook my head.

"I don't really have that great of an attention span, Erik." I told him. He smiled, shaking his head with good humor.

"I suppose a nice walk will be fine then." He said as we started down the street.

"We could go by the market. That's always a lovely cultural experience." Erik said.

"Really?" I asked, remembering the flea markets in America, sometimes they were pretty sketchy, other times they were pretty cool.

"Of course. France is a wonderful land of culture. Paris is the epicenter." Erik told me.

"Sure, you're the expert on these things, Erik." I told him as we started to walk down the street. We chatted pleasantly. I was trying to keep my hands from dangling awkwardly as I walked along. I didn't really like how my hands swung along as I walked, so I grabbed onto the strap of my bag as we walked.

"I think you're ready to know my entire story, Christine." Erik said quietly. I looked at him in surprise.

"What?" I asked quietly. Erik smiled just a little, the corners of his lips curling just slightly.

"You've lived with me for a while. I believe I can trust you with something I've entrusted to nobody else, Christine. Tell me, what is your opinion on alchemy?" Erik asked. I furrowed my brow. I didn't know much, not much at all. But I had an inkling of an idea

"You mean to tell me you did this on purpose?" I asked. Erik shook his head.

"I had a friend. He said that he could help me forget. At a price. You see after Christine Daae, I was low. I was never able to end my life…. If anything was drilled into my mind from childhood it was that man had no right to take life, whether it was another's life or your own. I didn't know much about alchemy. I preferred to study the real sciences. Well what I thought was real. But I was so desperate…. I allowed him to try to help me. I forgot about the whole ordeal… for a while. With a side effect, everlasting life. The memory loss was only temporary. The life however… it wasn't." Erik told me. I gave him a strange look, almost wondering if he was messing with me. He looked very serious.

"That's why you were so upset about James dying eventually. You'll… you'll have to bury him, won't you?" I asked. Erik nodded.

"His family has long since given up on him." Erik told me sadly.

"How ungrateful. He probably cherishes them." I said.

"He doesn't remember much my dear." Erik replied.

"What, does he have Alzheimer's disease?" I asked He nodded somberly. I frowned, looking ahead of him. I wouldn't really know what it felt like to live from day to day without remembering the details of your own life. Erik did it willingly. I looked back at him. He was beautiful. His skin had a lovely even marble skin tone; Erik always caught me like a rabbit in a snare, sometimes when I looked at him, I just couldn't stop staring. His hair was a beautiful shiny raven black that I was jealous of. But when he smiled…. Oh God. It was like looking at the Sun. It was so bright and beautiful. I would've let him do anything just to see that smile.

"What do you want for lunch, Christine?" Erik asked. I shrugged, coming out of my thoughts. He was watching me with those eyes, which actually weren't staring deep into my own, on my face, but not my eyes. I gazed at him in curiosity. The look on his face made me think he was just going to lean down and kiss me. I wanted almost with my entire being for him to do this. His mouth was just so _seductive_. He raised his eyes to my own and we just stared for a moment.

"Oh….. um… somewhere that has chicken salad sandwiches." I told him. I was able to snap out of it before him. This caused Erik to as well.

"Oh… of course. I think there is a café down the street; It probably serves the dish you're looking for. And if not, we'll get the ingredients for it when we go to the market and I'll make it for you and James for supper tonight." Erik said. I smiled almost awkwardly. We walked on to the nearest café and checked the menu.

"You know what, I think chicken salad sandwiches would be something James would enjoy. Do you mind holding off until tonight, Christine?" Erik asked.

"Oh, yeah, no problem." I told him. We just grabbed some drinks to go and continued on our tour of Paris.

We entered the bakery for a small sheet cake, having decided it was about time to go see James. We go a pretty cake with white icing and red roses on the corners. I carried it back to the Solstice and we rode back in silence, Well to be honest I was about half awake, we stayed out a lot longer than we had intended, the sun had long since set and we were walking underneath the lamp lit streets in the early evening, never mind the bracing cold.

I got the cake out of the back of the car and we went up to the stairs, Erik entered, calling James. There was quiet, James didn't reply.

"Perhaps he's fallen asleep." I didn't have a good feeling. There was this prickle at the back of my neck. I wanted to say something. I entered the house behind him. I knew this wasn't going to end well. Erik knelt in silence by his death paled companion. I stood by Erik's side after I put down the cake. His face was forlorn and grim. I went down to my knees, touching his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." I told him. He looked at me.

"I have become accustomed to it, Christine.." He said. I frowned, tears coming to my eyes. Seeing his own glisten with tears, yet not enough to actually fall, he was literally becoming used to everyone around him dying.

Erik called James's family after the body was being transported, the coroner's van was still there. I was sitting on the stairs of James' porch hugging my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees watching Erik pace back and forth as he called James's daughter.

"Oh, hello, Leah? This is Erik Destler, I'm a friend of your father's. I regret to call to tell you this, but your father has passed away. I can give you the number of the coroner's office so you can call them if you like." Erik said. I watched him. The look he gave me was bereft of life, sorrow dulled his usually shining eyes and robbed them of any other emotion. How could I leave now? He would be completely alone if I left him. I would be just like Christine. I couldn't leave Erik to fend for himself. He had done so for countless years. He left the number, and then hung up the phone, giving a heavy sigh. I blinked at him. Not really sure what to do. I usually just fed off of other peoples' emotion. Always being taught that sadness was an appropriate response. But Erik wasn't sad, I mean he was mourning. But he wasn't crying or sobbing like people who usually just lost a close friend would.

I was uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do as I watched the coroner van pull away. I swallowed, meeting Erik's gaze again.

"What now, Erik?" I asked. He gave another sigh.

"I suppose we return to the cabin." Erik told me. I stood up and walked down the stairs.

"So are you okay?" I asked.

"No, but like I've said, I'm quite used to it." Erik said. I took his hand in mine and we continued walking.

"Well, I'm not leaving unless you want me to. So you'll still have me." I told him. Erik gave a weak smile. At least he wasn't so immune to death that he was able to feel outright happiness in times like this. That would've really frightened me.

"Thank you, Christine, for being here in the first place." Erik told me quietly.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few days were uncomfortable for me. Erik was helping with the funeral plans. I woke up one day to fine a petite woman in her sixties in Erik's living room, wearing all black. This lady was Leah, James' daughter. As soon as I had opened the door to my bedroom I closed it. I didn't want to be seen. I didn't know if Mother had pulled out of the media about me missing.

There was a knock on my door this morning. The door cracked open, letting in the light of the morning into my bedroom. I picked up my head and looked at my host.

"The funeral is tomorrow. Would you like to attend? If so I would like to take you and get you a funeral dress." Erik told me quietly as I sat up. Erik had been quiet for the past few days. I expected that at least. A very small amount of words had been spoken between us since coming back to the cabin the day we discovered James had passed away.

"Of course. I wouldn't want you to go alone." I told him, running my hands through my mess of curls.

"Alright." He said and closed the door behind him. I heard his footsteps retreat into the stairwell and then up the stairs. My hearing had become rather acute with the time in silence I spent with Erik here. Three months. Only three months, but it felt like eternity. I heaved a sigh and got out of bed. I had showered the night previously so I just got into some clothes; a pair of purple skinny jeans and a paint splatter graphic t-shirt. I grabbed a scrunchee and pulled my hair back, Most of my hair went into the pony tail, but a few of the dark auburn curls stayed by my face. I left the room, Erik and I nearly collided as he came back down the stairs. I met eyes with him, it was awkward because neither one of us knew what to say. I left the foot of the stairs and went into the living room.

"Should I get a haircut?" I asked him, grabbing my waist length hair and stroking it, I turned to look at him.

"I think it looks nice, but it is your hair, Christine." Erik told me, grabbing his wallet and putting it in his pocket.

"Are you ready?" Erik asked. God his voice, it was horrible, completely devoid of life. I shook my head.

" I need to put on my shoes, go on out to the car, I'll meet you out there." I told him. Erik nodded, putting his coat on, he left the house adjusting his collar. I gave a huff. I had a feeling he was going to get worse. I grabbed my Converse and pulled them on, quickly lacing my shoes tightly and I grabbed my jacket as I stood and put it on, locking the door behind me. I walked quickly out to the car and got in. Erik didn't say anything but put the car into drive and we started down the road to the closest town.

Tears came to my eyes. I remembered when I was little, thinking of going wedding dress shopping with my father, he was going to be the only one with me when I looked for a gown. I always imagined myself in a fairytale dress that had the perfect amount of poof. I liked poof but I didn't. I don't know how shopping for a funeral dress with Erik brought me to this topic, but it did. We walked into the store; I went over to the dresses, shuffling through what black ones I could find.

"What about you, Erik?" I asked him, pulling a dress out to study it better.

"What do you mean, Christine?" He replied as I checked the size on the dress.

"A Funeral outfit." I asked him. I found myself growing curious about his immortality. At first when he told me I didn't really want to say anything, figuring Erik had gone far out of his comfort zone just telling me how it came to be. If I really wanted to know I would ask him in a few months, when the wound that losing his old friend tore into him wasn't quite so fresh. If he hadn't been immortal in the first place he wouldn't have even met James. Erik sighed.

"I already have one. I'm always sure to have an up-to-date suit for situations like this." He told me. The frown that had been hanging around for the past week deepened slightly. I knit my brows, giving my own sigh. I put the dress back. I never really liked shopping… I found endlessly traversing various outlet stores, malls, and shopping centers a waste of time. I usually went in, got what I needed and left. One of my mother's ex-boyfriends used to shop more than my own mother. We would literally spend the entire day in one mall. I hated it.

Erik just hung back in silence. His gaze was forlorn. I knew it was healthy to mourn, but I just wanted him to be happy. He'd spent most of his life in sadness and distraught, I had seen him happy, I wanted him to be happy again. I pulled out anther dress, this was one was black with a blue sash around the middle, the straps that tied around my neck to hold the dress up were also blue, I liked this . I showed it to Erik.

"What do you think?" I asked him. He looked up from the ground and studied the dress. He looked at me.

"I think it looks nice. Why don't you go try it on?" He asked. I nodded and went to the dressing rooms and got my number sign and went into an unoccupied stall. I changed quickly and went out to the mirror and studied my appearance. I looked nice. The sash highlighted my curves and it had a square cut. The dress went down to about my knees. I liked it, the straps went back and tied around my neck, they were soft and silky. I could've worn it all day and not chaff the back of my neck. I debated whether I should go show Erik or not. I went and poked my head around the corner, he was down the corridor, looking at a shelf of vases. I pursed my lips, about to duck back into the changing room, but he looked at me, putting the vase back on the shelf.

"Did you like it?" He asked. I stepped out.

"What do you think? Is it too bright? Too flashy?" I asked him. Erik's face flashed confliction, but then became as emotionless as the mask he wore.

"I think it looks nice, to me it seems appropriate for any occasion." He told me. I nodded.

"Okay, I'll get this one then, if it's okay." I replied. He smiled a little warmly. It was nice to see finally.

"It's fine." He said, Erik knew me well enough to realize when I was indirectly asking for permission. I nodded and returned to the changing rooms and got out of the dress. I came back out in my normal clothes, the dress hung over my arm. Erik gave me a weary smile. I think he finally picked up on my emotions. He was trying to be a little bit lighter. I hoped I wasn't coming across as selfish….

"What was James like when he was younger?" I asked him timidly. Maybe talking about when James in his pride would help Erik feel better… either that or worse. Which really was a gamble I wouldn't have usually taken.

"He was, quite ornery," Erik laughed gently, a genuine smile returning to his lips for a few moments. "I suppose that's why we got along so well… He's actually from the family of the alchemist. I was a constant shadow to his family, I think since all James' children had moved away that is over now though. Leah recognized me from family photos numbering back to the early 20th century, she doesn't want me near her children. She doesn't know what I am… but she knows that I mean no harm." Erik told me.

"Well, you can be a part of my family now." I replied as we got in line, Erik gave me a look, then smiled gently.

"Thank you Christine." He told me. I nodded. When would I have a family? Would I even trust myself to any other human being? In fear of getting hurt again? Of losing somebody else? I looked to Erik, then to the dress on my arm, picking at a piece of purple fuzz that came off my jeans. We got to the front of the line and I laid down the dress on the counter. The cashier gave me an odd look.

"Are you who I think you are?" She asked. I met eyes with her, tilting my head.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Christine Darenz, the missing American girl. You look a lot like her… and your French isn't exactly perfect." She said, Erik remained silent.

"I know who you are speaking of… but that's not me." I told her, I knew she didn't buy it.

"Forty-eight Euros." She told us. Erik took his wallet out and pulled out the cash, counting it out. Him paying in cash wasn't exactly helping her suspicion either. He looked like a freaking kidnapper.

"Would you like to join our points system? If you purchase up to 150 euros you get a free handbag. All we need is an address and phone number and we can sign you right up." The worker asked.

"No thanks… we probably won't be shopping here again." Erik said, putting his wallet away. Erik you aren't helping your case any… The counter girl put the dress in a bag after putting the money in the cash register and gave us the bag.

"Thank you." I told her and left. I looked at Erik. He didn't seem fazed.

"You know you're a suspected kidnapper now, right?" I asked him as we got in the car. I looked in the passenger side mirror; I nearly had a heart attack as I saw the store worker, in the mirror, focusing on us with a notepad in hand. Crap… she was getting the license plate.

"What do you mean?" Erik asked.

"Okay, the media goes quiet after I confront my mom, to the public that looks like a kidnapper has called my mother and told her to get out of the media, meaning I'm still the talk of the town. People are still looking for me. I told the worker I wasn't who I really was, denying it entirely, you're an older man wearing a mask and pays with cash, then you don't go for the points system thing, which was probably bogus to get your info. Then you said we probably won't be shopping at that store again. The clerk just got your license plate. We're in so much trouble…" I said.

"Go to the nearest police station. I'm ending this today." I told him. Erik gave me a look.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I'm telling them about my mother, how she treated me, how you took me in. I'm an adult now. I can make my own choices." I told him. Erik gave me a wary glance.

"Are you sure?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure. You should come in with me. No guilty man would walk in with their victim into a police station. It would make you look innocent." I replied irritably. Erik started the car and drove to the police station. We both got out and went inside the station. I walked up to the clerk.

"Hello, I'm Christine Darenz. I ran from my mother when I was seventeen, she filed a missing persons report and I'd like to cancel that out." I told the clerk. He looked at me in surprise.

"And who is this?" He asked.

"The man that took me in. I know I didn't go about this the right way, but I'd like to set things right. I don't want the man that did me a huge favor to go to jail for helping me." I told him. The officer nodded and stood up.

"Right this way." He said. Erik and I followed and we were put in a conference room. Erik started to pace. I gave him a look.

"Pacing around like a caged tiger isn't helping you look innocent, Erik." I told him.

"I don't like the police Christine. I protect myself as a child and instead of the police helping me they call me a murderer." He said quietly. I huffed.

"Sorry, just relax okay? It'll be fine. You are innocent." I told him. A detective came in.

"Hello, I'm Detective Wells, I was put in charge of your case. You say you ran from your mother?" He asked as he sat down. Erik had placed me in between the detective and himself.

"Yes. My mother was a drunkard and I couldn't take it anymore so I left… He found me, I've been living with him ever since." I told Detective Wells.

"Could we talk alone, Christine?" He asked. I nodded, and looked to Erik. He gave me a scared look, he was at a weak point, but I was doing this to be sure he didn't get thrown in jail.

"Go on outside, okay? I'm sure you'll be fine." I told him. Erik gave me the most heart tearing look, but reluctantly left. I looked at the detective.

"What can I say to make you believe that I'm not a victim of kidnap? Because I can tell by the way you are looking at me that you don't believe me." I told him.

"You disappear, then you come out of nowhere with a mysterious man saying that you have not been kidnapped, he's had problems with authority in the past. Evidently he was accused of murder. We're running a check on him now. Christine, your saving angel may be more of a devil." He told me. I hardened my gaze.

"Erik saved me when I was at my lowest. I was about to go get into my car and ram it headfirst into the biggest, toughest tree at a 110 miles an hour if he hadn't found me. He took me in and taught me that I was worth something." Tears were coming to my eyes, my voice was tightening.

"How can you look at me and tell me that I've been kidnapped and that I've been forced to say all this! And I'm going to tell you that I'm not all that great of an actor!" I told him, the tears falling.

"And don't you give me any of that Stockholm Syndrome crap because I'm stronger than that! How dare you speak of things you know nothing about?" I yelled at him, nearly jumping up out of my chair. The detective gave me a calm look.

"Calm down, Christine." He said evenly/

"Why should I? I come in here to clear things up and you accuse the man that gave me a second chance at life of kidnapping me? Are you kidding?" I demanded. I wanted Erik. I needed him with me. He wasn't holding me captive. He had invited me into his home and he had taken me out in public, gone socializing with me, and bought me food and clothes…

The most heart wretching realization came to me. What if Erik had never come to my rescue? He would've never had to do this. He wouldn't be accused of kidnapping. He was perfectly satisfied with his life, until I came… He was happily gardening and writing his music and perfecting other countless skills, out of the sight of the judgmental and cruel society. I nearly sobbed.

"God, I ruined his life."


	13. Chapter 13

"What Christine?" Detective Wells asked. I shook my head.

"Nothing, look, I'm fine, tell the public that." I told him, standing up. I was leaving, before this got any more out of control.

"Christine, wait." The detective said right as I grabbed the doorknob. I turned, looking at him.

"What, Detective Wells?" I asked.

"Why don't you tell the public yourself? It will be more believable." He asked me. I frowned. I wanted to be back at the cabin and relax, I wanted to be alone. I didn't want to be on the news, but I didn't want Erik to be prosecuted after barely escaping what happened in Paris in the 19th century.

"Okay." I told him. I opened the door, but the Detective closed the door, slamming it closed by bearing down on the door.

"Why don't you sit down and relax?" He asked, told more like. I shook my head.

"No, I want to go outside." I told him, meeting eyes with him. His blue eyes were hard.

"I insist." He said.

"I'm American, can't care less about your stupid, insisting. Let me out." I spat. He smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. He stepped back.

"Alright, fine." He said. "I'll go call the news, they'll be here in a few hours, because everyone in the nation has been looking for you, so I think they all want to know that you're fine." Detective Wells told me. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You seem awfully involved, a bit more than a typical detective would be." I told him.

"Let's just say your 'savior' and I have some history. He's not who you think he is." He told me.

"And are you sure that he's the man you think he is?" I asked.

"Oh, I know. A man like that is unforgettable. I just don't think it's fair that he gets a second chance and I don't." Detective Wells told me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked him, He ran his hands through his short blond hair.

"Just because he didn't kidnap you doesn't mean I'm going to leave Erik alone. I'm going to keep a very close eye on him from now on." He told me, walking back over to the table and sitting down; a very hot gaze of irritation aimed at Erik in the other room. There was a glass wall between us. Kind of like the opposite of interrogation room. We could see out, but Erik couldn't see in. Erik's gaze was fixed on the door.

"You aren't who you say you are either, are you?" I asked, sitting down across from him. He was really young for a detective. He couldn't be older than twenty-three. All the detectives I had ever met were at least thirty five. He smiled again, a taunting smile.

"You're smart. Ever hear of the Phantom of the Opera?" He asked. I narrowed my eyes at him again, tilting my head slightly.

"Of course, I read it in freshmen year." I told him, Detective Wells leaned forward.

"Can you keep a secret?" He whispered.

"Yes, what are you getting at?" I asked.

"True, all of it. Except the ending, where Raoul and Christine run off and get married live happily ever after, that part, a lie. Blatant." He told me. I smiled, laughing.

"What, and that guy in there, is the Phantom of the Opera?" I asked laughingly, pointing at Erik over my shoulder. The detective's eyes hardened.

"Yes, actually. Do you think you know who I am?" He asked. I stared at him hard. Young, blue eyes, blonde hair… he mentioned Raoul and Christine. Holy Cow….

"Raoul?" I asked. He nodded.

"I pulled the same trick your friend in there did. Minus the erased memory. I am determined to make sure that he doesn't ruin someone else's life like he did with Christine. You know, he filled her life with so much fantasy and all those dreams, that once she left the opera house she couldn't handle reality. I couldn't save her from everything he did. Even after he was gone, and even forgot about Christine she wandered the halls of my mansion, singing in the most eerie tone. I found her hanging. She finally realized that her Angel of Music was never coming for her again." He told me.

"Erik is not the only one responsible for her delusions, Raoul." I told him. "Who was the one who told her the story of the Angel of Music?" I asked him. Raoul's eyes hardened.

"Gustav Daae isn't the only one responsible either. Who was it that turned Christine into a real Little Lotte? When Erik came into her life she was a scared young child, praying everyday very faithfully for her Angel of Music. Well the Angel of Music was never coming Raoul. Erik has always had this knack for helping broken down humans. He couldn't walk away from the chapel that night without showing Christine that no matter how alone she was she really wasn't. He had the means; he could teach her as the Angel taught Lotte. You can't blame him entirely. Put yourself in his shoes, would you have left that lonely little girl alone as so many had done to you before?" I asked him.

"I admit, his original intentions were noble. But forcing her to marry him? Christine, that isn't right." Raoul replied. He was really very interesting to be honest.

"He was alone Raoul, do you know what that does to people?" I asked. Raoul pursed his lips, humming quietly, looking to the wall.

"Look, he's not that person anymore." I told Raoul. He shook his head.

"I'm sure you're right, but I won't let him go now that I've found him again." Raoul said.

"He's killed people. But I wouldn't be able to put him in jail for murders that happened over one hundred years ago."

"Yeah, I know what he did! The past is the past; Erik is in no way more responsible for Christine's death than you or her father! You can't use him as a scapegoat just because he didn't go about things the same way you did, just because he was some hermit who wasn't as privileged as you or as normal!" I spat at him. The ex-nobleman gave me a look.

"You think you know him better than I do?" He asked. The laugh that escaped my lungs sounded like that of a madwoman.

"I've been living with him for the past three and a half months! Yeah, I think I know him better than you." I told him. He closed his eyes, giving an annoyed sigh.

"Don't be so dreadfully naïve." He said breathily. I furrowed my brow.

"About what?" I asked. He stopped, seeming to have come to a stump.

"He's paid for what he's done. He isn't perfect, but he tries to be the best person he can be. You've made yourself everlasting. What have you done with yourself since then? Searched for a man who you would never find?" I asked.

"I found him, didn't I?" Raoul asked. I was quiet.

"What are you going to do to him?" I asked barely above a whisper.

"You mistake me for the villain, Christine. I just want to keep an eye on him." He told me. I clenched my jaw.

"Then why do you make me feel like you want to do more? The way you're talking to me, the way you sent Erik out, like you didn't want him to know that you are the Viscount. To be honest, I don't understand why he didn't recognize you in the first place. I mean, he did let you go when Christine gave herself to him. When he won." I told him. Raoul's eyes flamed momentarily. He stood up… he wasn't as short as I had imagined him. Then went over to the door and opened it.

"Would you like to come in, Monsieur?" He asked, Erik returned into the room. Raoul sat down across from me. Erik sat down at my side.

"Miss Darenz will give a public statement on the television to the nation. The entire country has been looking for her. They'll be happy to know she's fine. And Monsieur, don't you recognize me?" Raoul asked Erik. My companion grew rigid.

"I thought I was the only one who had access to alchemy, Raoul. I was just hoping that you were an uncanny resemblance to family long forgotten." Erik said calmly.

"No. Christine and I never had the chance to have children." Raoul told him. Erik tilted his head slightly.

"Why is that?" He asked.

"No-"

"She hung herself." Raoul cut me off. A small pain filled noise escaped from Erik's throat.

"She had ventured deep into delusion because of what you really were." Raoul said.

"Stop blaming him!" I yelled at Raoul.

"Calm down Christine." He told me.

"Hell no! Give me one damn good reason why I should! You're sitting here being the jerk of the century, busting open old scars, and you're telling me I should be calm?"

"Christine." Erik said quietly. I don't know if he was talking to me but his voice instantly calmed me and I sat down.

"I see you still have the ability to manipulate unsuspecting minds like you did with Christine." Raoul said. I glared daggers at him.

"I haven't done it on purpose for years, Raoul." Erik replied icily. I grabbed Erik's hand underneath the table. He tightened his grip on my hand.

"You know what. I think I'll just tell the media myself, you two seem like you don't want anything to do with this. You just go on back. I'll come check in on you in maybe a week." Raoul told us. Erik's grip tightened only slightly.

"Raoul, that won't be necessary." Erik said, releasing my hand and standing. Raoul remained sitting but lifted his gaze to be sure his eyes remained locked with Erik's.

"I think it will be." Raoul told him. I glared hotly at Raoul. But I stood with Erik.

"Have a nice day, Christine, thank you for coming in." Raoul told me. I looked down, ashamed. I scurried out of the room. Tears blurring my vision, my throat so tight I knew if I tried to speak I would merely squeak. Shame riddled my soul so completely that I couldn't even look at Erik as we got in the car. There was silence.

"D-do you want me to leave?" I asked quietly.

"Why would I want you to do that? Do you think I want that pestering viscount turned detective as my only company?" Erik asked as he started the car. I looked at him in shock.

"If I hadn't showed up, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have known what happened to…"

"If you hadn't shown up, I would be utterly alone, I wouldn't even have Raoul breathing down my back." Erik told me, backing the car out of the parking place. I looked out my window, seeing said annoyance standing at the top of the steps of the station.

"What are the odds? He chooses the one town nearest your home to settle down in. Do you think he knew?" I asked.

"No, our paths were bound to cross one day or the other, I just never saw it coming." Erik said, getting out onto the road. I looked back at him.

"Do you think he wants to hurt you?" I asked. Erik shook his head.

"Our violent rivalry has been long over, Christine." Erik told me.

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"Raoul had a handgun, it was under his jacket. He could have shot me there and told the others that I attacked. Meanwhile the only witness is a kidnapped victim that was more than likely suffering from Stockholm syndrome, Christine; he had all the power in that room." Erik told me.

"I didn't realize he was packing." I said quietly.

"That's because he didn't want you to. When he invited me into the room he opened the door wide, causing his jacket to lift up enough for me to see his gun." Erik told me. The pavement turned to gravel as Erik took the turn onto the road that the Thompson Opera rested on.

"What time is the funeral tomorrow?" I asked. Erik's brow furrowed.

"I think ten." Erik told me. I nodded. We fell into silence. The car slowed and pulled onto the dirt path that leads to the cabin. I watched the abandoned opera house pass by slowly.

"It's only four thirty…." I muttered as Erik brought the car to a stop and shut off the engine. I just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for eternity. I gazed at Erik, who was looking at me with a strange and different look than how he usually did. I tilted my head slightly.

"It has been a hard few days, hasn't it?" He asked. I scoffed.

"Understatement of the Universe." I told him, I opened my door and got out of the car. Erik did as well and we hurried inside.

"I'm going to go take a nap…" I told Erik, retreating to my bedroom. I shed my jacket and shoes. I locked the door and got out of my skinny jeans and put on some comfy sweat shorts and took off my t-shirt, leaving me in my undershirt and said sweat shorts. I jumped in bed and up-turned the sheets and settled under the warm blankets

* * *

><p>I stood beside Erik, really close. It was cold. I should have worn a heavier jacket. He wrapped his arm around me.<p>

"You may be warmer now." He said quietly, the funeral was small; grandchildren and children, and Erik and I. Erik and I had a white rose each. I wrapped my arm around him as well. We were both strangely comfortable with our physical contact. I hadn't realized it until Erik was the one to wrap his arms around me first. I looked up at him. He was calm, face serene with a hint of sadness. I looked away from him over the rows of headstones and nearly jumped when I saw Raoul gazing at us. I nudged Erik in the ribs, he looked down at me.

"What is it?" He asked. I pointed. Erik's gaze followed. He left my side I reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Wait, what are you going to do?" I asked him.

"I'm just going to ask him not to follow us to personal obligations, if he wishes to know what I am up to he can come see us like a civilized human being." Erik said. I released him and Erik continued on to Raoul. I watched them from a distance. The two were speaking like gentlemen. Erik offered his hand and they shook, Raoul nodding. Erik returned to me.

"I convinced him to be more reasonable with this crusade of his. To be honest I don't really know how he knew about the funeral." Erik said quietly. I nodded.

"You know, he doesn't really seem all that bad…" I replied. But Erik didn't reply. The coffin was being lowered and the attendees dropped their roses into the ground. Erik and I stepped forward and dropped the only two white roses onto the coffin.

"Goodbye my friend." Erik said quietly. I touched his arm. He looked at me. I smiled gently. We returned to the car. I sat down in the car and shivered. Erik looked at me as he sat down.

"Christine?" Erik asked.

"Yeah, Erik?" I replied.

"Thank you for being here, and letting me into your life." Erik told me. I looked at him giving him a genuine smile.

"No problem. If anything we're even." I told him Erik shook his head.

"And you're right, Raoul isn't really all that bad. He's just convinced that I need to be watched. Maybe when he sees the truth, we could be friends." Erik said. I smiled. It was something I would never have imagined him saying should I have not ever known him. I knew him better than anyone else. He knew me better than anyone else. We had a special bond. Something that made me feel great. I wondered if he felt the same way.


	14. Chapter 14

I sat outside James' house on the steps; Erik was with a lawyer, going through James's belongings with Leah. The purr of an engine ticked in my ears. I looked up, my money was on Raoul. He had promised he would come within a week and he did. I watched a police car roll up and slow to a park, I rolled my eyes I was right, it was Raoul. He actually was a nice guy. He had called me a few times, having got my cell number from my file. He tried to get me to leave Erik a time or two, but with a few choice words screamed in his ear he got the point that I was a lot different than Miss Daae.

He got out of the car, pulling his jacket around him tightly. He came over, careful not to slip on the ice. When Raoul stopped despite his efforts he did, nearly busting his ass on the icy pavement.

"Good Morning Christine, how have you been?" He asked.

"I don't know, you tell me, how was I last night when you called me at 11:30 at night. Really? A nice looking detective has nothing better to do than call an eighteen year old that lives with an ex-arch nemesis." My voice soaked with sarcasm.

"Still a bit cranky I see." He muttered.

"Yeah." I told him with a bitter smile.

"Is Erik home?" He asked.

"Not his home, but he's in there; he's with a lawyer and his friend's daughter. Why don't you sit down and wait for him to come out? Don't be a rude jerk and interrupt them." I asked him. Raoul's eyes ticked and he did so, sitting down beside me.

"How did you come upon this place, anyways? I mean, I searched the country side looking for him and all you do is drive off in an angry stupor?" Raoul asked.

"What do you think I did; run him over with my Mustang?" I asked.

"Well, no…" He replied.

"Look. See that building over there?" I asked, pointing at the old opera house.

"Yes, I'm not blind." He replied. I laughed.

"Of course you're not." I said.

"I think you've been spending too much time with him, you have his mannerisms…" Raoul muttered.

"I was like this long before I met him. But let's focus. I was enraged, my father died when I was thirteen, my mother dragged me all over the earth after he died, trying to run from her problems, when that didn't work, she started drinking, she was a wonderful woman before alcohol poisoned her. So eventually I ran away. I come here, my anger subsided, I just feel like genuine crap, and I basically collapse in the building. It's an old opera house, the Thompson Opera. I sit down in the auditorium and this voice come out of nowhere, talking to me.

I knew I was going crazy until I actually saw him. He was on the stage. Talking to me, he was real. It was like a movie or something. He really reminded me of V, from V For Vendetta. You ever see that move?" I asked. Raoul shook his head.

"Well, long story short, he convinces me to live with him for a little while, If I've changed my view on my life when I leave, he'll ask me for nothing in return, if I still feel the same, he'll let me 'ram my mustang into a tree.' Erik never wanted anything in return. I thought, 'What the Hell, why not, maybe he's a psycho mass murderer that'll kill me. He even told me when we first met he was the Phantom of the Opera." I told Raoul.

"You're like a demented version of Christine." Raoul muttered.

"Not so much demented as rough and tumble." I replied. Raoul shook his head.

"You are strange." He told me. I laughed.

"You know, you're not the punk I always thought you were." I told Raoul. He gave me a crazy look. I smiled crookedly at him, Raoul readjusted his earmuffs.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone out here, Christine." Erik said, the two of us on the stairs turned to look at Erik.

"Good Morning, Raoul." Erik told him pleasantly.

"Good Morning…Erik." Raoul felt awkward I could tell.

"Don't let him freeze out here, Christine. I'll be done in about half an hour… I think… This lawyer is rather horrible. But take Raoul into the cabin, make him something warm to drink, I will join you two, eventually." Erik told me. I nodded and stood.

"Come on Raoul." I said and started down the stairs, jumping into the small bank of snow that had piled up beside the steps. I would rather be cold than slip and bust my butt on some ice. Raoul stepped onto the ice then into the snow.

"How far is that cabin?" He asked.

"Just up this path. It's gravel, so it's not as bad as the pavement or the yard." I told him.

"That's good." He told me. I shook my head in

"So what do you think about him?" I asked Raoul.

"Erik?" He replied.

"No, Jack Frost." I said sarcastically.

"Okay, well… he does seem very civil. He's changed. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop coming." Raoul told me. I shook my head and the lovely crunch of frozen gravel underfoot sounded. We were able to get to the cabin within a few minutes.

I shed my jacket and put it on the coat hanger, Raoul took off those ridiculous ear muffs. I went into the kitchen and pulled out a few packets of hot chocolate. I started some milk to warm up and grabbed some mugs.

"You two were kind of close at the funeral yesterday." Raoul said tentively. I looked at him.

"Did you see what I was wearing? I was cold." I told him. "Our relationship is different than what most people might expect." I told Raoul. He stood in the dining room, looking at the vase of full roses.

"I see he still has a thing for roses." Raoul told me. I nodded.

"Yeah." I told him. He looked at me with a strange look.

"It's interesting, just how much you look like her." Raoul said. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Don't get all weird on me now. I ain't in the mood for any of that." I told him.

"'Ain't?'" He asked.

"I'm Appalachian. Ain't means not." I told him.

"Alright. But, really, what are the odds?" He asked.

"I don't know, I've never like statistics much." I told him. Raoul shook his head. I sat down on the bench and waited for the milk to at least simmer, this wouldn't take so long if Erik believed in microwaves…..

"What do you do here?" Raoul asked, sitting down opposing me.

"Nothing really. Nap, eat, and listen to music. Chill out in the green house. Pet my cat." I told him. Raoul mulled over this. Soon after the milk was ready and I mixed the hot chocolate

We were quietly drinking our hot chocolate in the kitchen when Erik came in. I smiled at my friend, Raoul turned and nodded to him. I could completely see these two being at least acquaintances.

"We left you some hot chocolate; it's still on the stove." I told him snootily. Erik took off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket, then took the coat off. He then crossed the kitchen and turned on the stove.

"No matter how inconvenient you think you make things for me for it really isn't. I've been doing this my entire life. I refuse to let you use a machine that bombards something you are going to eat with waves of radiation that you have deemed harmless." Erik told me. I rolled my eyes, laughing a little.

"Is he talking about microwaves?" Raoul asked me quietly. I smiled sarcastically and nodded. Erik saw this, he then returned his attention to the stove.

"Nice to see you two are hitting it off…." Erik muttered crankily. My smile dropped and I shamefully put down my mug. I started to twirl it on the countertop. Raoul put down his own mug.

"I see you two are doing fine. I'm going to go, I will see you two next week. Hopefully we can get to know each other better, Erik. Have a nice week." He said, pulling out his gloves, he left the kitchen, Erik showed him out and I was left alone for a moment or two. I took a drink from my hot chocolate. Erik returned.

"I'm sorry." I told him, Erik met eyes with me momentarily.

"What for, Christine?" He asked, picking up the kettle and pouring his drink.

"What I did with Raoul. You seem upset about it." I told him, gazing at my reflection in the creamy chocolate drink.

"I don't have a right to. I'm not going to hold you accountable. It was more memories of how that boy acted in my opera house." Erik said. I frowned, that may have made me smile on a different day. I turned on the stool and faced him. I placed my mug on the counter and slid off. What was I doing? I didn't know. I took the few steps to Erik and took his free hand. I felt awkward, but something needed to be done, and I knew what. I loved this strange man. And I had to tell him before it was too late. His eyes showed fear. I stepped back.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked.

"What you might say." Erik told me, putting his mug down next to the sink.

"What do you think I will say?" I asked.

"That you want to leave." He told me.

"Why would I want to leave?" I asked bluntly. This surprised him; he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavier against the front of the stove, looking to the floor insecurely.

"Because you're an adult now, you're free. You really have no reason to stay." He told me quietly, fearfully, heartbrokenly. My eyes widened.

"H-how do you feel about me, Erik?" I asked. He gazed at me with fearful eyes.

"The last time I told somebody I loved her, she gave me a ring and left to fight my own darkness." Erik said. If my heart wasn't already pounding it definitely was then. I covered my mouth with my hands, tears coming to my eyes.

"Oh my God." I said simply, I couldn't take my eyes off him. No matter how hard I tried. I just stared at his blank yet broken expression. I couldn't speak or anything. No one I had ever had feelings like this for ever requited them. I didn't know what to do. I ran, I went to my room and I locked the door. I didn't know he loved me too! I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to let him know he was loved. He was more important to me than Raoul could ever be. Erik was my savior. He came to me in my time of darkness and he pulled me back up to the light.

I leaned against the door. I stayed there for about thirty minutes, petting Mega and gathering my thoughts. Once I did I set the cat down and left my room. I searched the house, but didn't find Erik. So I pulled on my jacket and warm clothes and went out to the greenhouse. I didn't find him there. That meant he was in his room. I returned to the house.

The staircase faded into darkness, grim shadows stretched across the ground, of the second floor, golden light escaping from underneath the closed door. I walked up the steps. My heart stopped when I heard violin music. I paused and listened, it was a sweet, sad song. I knit my brows in distress. I made him upset. I went the rest of the way up the stairs and across the steps. I actually left the stairs this time. Last time I just hung on the third step from the top.

I knocked on the door. The violin music stopped. There was a moment's silence and I heard Erik's footsteps. The door opened a little and Erik peeked through the opening. I was caught in Erik's gaze. It was conflicted, sad and hopeful. I swallowed.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run like that. I'm really sorry." I told him. Erik opened the door.

"Come in." He told me. I timidly stepped into the bedroom. My friend took a seat at the desk. His room was very nice, warm. The walls were painted a rich green and the bedframe was black, surrounded by a black curtain, concealing the bed itself from my sight. There was a fireplace and an armchair sitting in front of it.

"Sit down, Christine." He told me softly. I did so in the armchair. I gazed at him. He was gazing at the floor.

"I love you." I told him. I blushed heavily as the words barely slipped by my lips. Erik's eyes rose to meet mine. He gave a heavy sigh and ran his hands through his hair, interlocking his hands on the back of his neck. He was beautiful.

"That's what I was afraid of, Christine."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:I am not ashamed of how this chapter ends. Enjoy it, sorry for the late update.**

I stared at him in surprise. He was afraid of my love? But I thought that he just wanted to be loved. I lowered my gaze and furrowed my brow.

"Is there something wrong with me?" I asked, looking back up at him, a hint of humor flashed in his eyes, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The way he looked, it was that of a man who was very familiar with this, a look of tired wisdom was worn on his face, he just looked old, even his mask, his eyes were dull. That small smile a sad one, sucking every ounce of energy out of him, like a spider sucking the blood out of a robust bug caught in the tendrils of its web

"No, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you, Christine. I'm the problem. I'm everlasting, Christine." He told me. I frowned. Right.

"Is there any way to take it away?" I asked. Erik shrugged; he stood and turned, placing the violin in its case on the desk. I watched him with sadness seeping into my soul. I blinked back tears.

"Are you condemned to being alone forever?" I asked, my voice cracked, I hugged myself. Erik looked at me.

"You are stronger than that Christine." He told me. I stood abruptly and returned to my room. I buried myself in my blankets and I didn't come out for the rest of the day.

The sun rose and danced into my room. I cursed it for being so bright, so warm. I turned my back to it and pulled the comforter over my head. There was a knock.

"I don't see why you're so upset about this, Christine." I heard Erik's voice through the door, I huffed angrily. I always hid behind anger when I was sad. It was a major flaw in me and I knew it.

"I love you and we can't be together without you being destroyed." I yelled at him from underneath the covers and through the door.

"Christine I can hear you but I can't understand you. Please come out. I didn't mean to upset you. You're all I have left now and I just don't want to have to watch you wither away and die like I had to with James and his family." Erik told me. I uncovered my head.

"Even if we don't act on our feelings, Erik, you'll have to, if you stay in my life that is." I told him. The door opened and he stuck his head in my bedroom. We made eye contact. He entered my room fully and sat down on the edge of my bed.

"That's just it, Christine. I'm tired of watching people die. That is the one thing that I have never gotten used to in my life. People dying." His voice cracked. I sat up watching him.

"It's really something that a person should never get used to, Erik." I told him. He looked to me from the floor, his eyes red with tears.

"I don't want to get so attached to you that when you die it will destroy me. And I know if I do get anymore attached to you, I will never be able to let you go without feeling nothing. I became very accustomed to people leaving me, that before I even saw Christine Daae." He told me. I left my warm oasis and hugged my beloved friend.

"I'm sorry Erik." I told him He kissed the top of my head, and brought me closer to him.

"Do…do you think I could become everlasting?" I asked him. Erik was silent.

"Would you really want to do that? Would you really want to become everlasting for me? Even if I knew how to make it so?" Erik asked. I swallowed.

"Maybe. I mean, all I need, or really want is you." I told him. He let out a sob. I pulled away from him and looked Erik in the face. A tear went down the unmasked side of his face. I wiped it away and then hugged him very tightly. He buried his face in my neck and just cried. I kissed his head. His arms slowly came around my waist and he pulled me a little closer to him.

"I love you." I told him softly. It was the only thing I could do. I was stuck. I couldn't leave, I always ran, every time. Every time when faced with the climax of anything I have run; my mother, Erik's alcoholism, and last night. Not anymore, and not just because Erik was holding me. I was done running. I was done with that part of my life. I wasn't going to run like a coward anymore, as a matter of fact I was sick of it.

We just held each other, for hours. It was noon by the time either one of us had the ability to say something. My eyes were closed and I was resting against him, we had long since laid back against the pillows and just stayed that way. But he moved, pulling away from me and sitting up. I opened my eyes and sat up myself, looking at him. He was staring out the window; his eyes were a weak watery blue, his expression blank. I touched his shoulder. Erik looked at me with a forlorn look on his face.

"We need to find the alchemic recipe in order to do this. My friend's home was turned into a library, it's in Southern France. I'm sure the alchemy books are still there." Erik told me, getting up and walking away.

"You're going to do it?" I asked. Erik stopped, grabbing the tall bedpost at his side, he looked at me and nodded.

"Yes. Throughout the years I have helped dozens of people, hoping that one day one of them would offer to stay with me forever. I would never ask them too, I always wanted them to think of it themselves. I knew someone one day would. But they never did. Until you. I've spent so many years alone, Christine, I'm so old. I've seen two world wars; I've seen men kill each other brutally. I've seen genocide, enslavement, horrible things. Each of those things, I lost faith in humanity. But with each of these people, I've gained it back. I didn't lose it when they left either. They had bigger and better things to do. And I'm not saying you don't, but I hoped, with you, I wouldn't see just the violence. That maybe I would see the light in the dark. And you showed me that. I'm not going to be dramatic and tell you to leave me when you want to stay. I've made that mistake before. I won't do it again." He told me. Chills went through my body. I stared at Erik in wonder. He had seen it all.

All the destruction of the twentieth century. All witnessed by that one man. All on top of his own personal wars. How had he retained his sanity? A living relic. A living witness, to everything, for the rest of time, until the end of time. And I would stand next to him to bear witness as well.

"Get packed, we're leaving soon." Erik told me. I nodded. Thankfully I had washed my clothes recently and I had them neatly folded in a basket waiting by the door. I pulled my suitcase out from underneath the bed and brought it over to my clothes basket.

"Oh and Christine?" Erik asked from the doorway. I stood and looked at him.

'Yes?" I replied. He stepped forward and kissed me.

"I love you too." He said, pulling away. I stared at him in shock. His lips were soft and warm and he smelled good. I smiled at him goofily and he smiled too and my heart fluttered. Erik disappeared through the doorway and I heard him going upstairs. I got back down on the ground and started to neatly stuff my clothes into my suitcase.

My phone rang. I looked up and saw it was Raoul. I rolled my eyes and answered it, putting it in between my shoulder and ear so my hands were free.

"What?" I asked.

"That's just a little bit rude, Christine." He told me in reply. I gave a huff.

"Good afternoon Detective, what is it I can help you with?" I asked snarkily.

"And I thought we were friends, Christine." He replied. I laughed a little.

"I treat everyone like this." I told him.

"Except Erik, right?" He asked.

"Shut up." I replied, picking up my bag and taking it to the bathroom. I grabbed my toothbrush, paste, and my hairbrush and hairdryer and stuffed them in there too.

"If that's Raoul tell him we'll be going away for a while." Erik whispered, I turned and he was standing there in the doorway. I stared at him; he was like a freaking ninja. I nodded.

"Oh, and by the way, we're going to be going away for a little bit. We have some business in South France to deal with." I told him.

"What business? Erik is a hermit and you're barely an adult. " Raoul asked.

"He isn't a hermit anymore." I replied as I looked at Erik.

"Tell him, we're going to be three of a kind, might as well let him know." He told me. I nodded again and left the bathroom.

"I'm going to become like you guys. Someone's gotta stick around to make sure you two play nicely." I told him. There was a silence.

"Christine, you can't do that." He replied calmly.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Do you really want to live forever? I did it when I found out what Erik did to make sure he didn't hurt anyone. He didn't do it on purpose. Christine, a person needs to have a very good reason why they should do this in order to keep their sanity." Raoul replied. I nodded even though he couldn't see.

"I do have a good reason. Beside you, Erik will be alone. Do you think he'll be able to make it much longer with just you as company?" I asked. Raoul was quiet again.

"Probably not. But what makes you think he wants to go on much longer? I'm not trying to be mean or anything, but think about it." He replied.

"The fact that he is still around. He thirsts for knowledge Raoul. He loves it. Erik will stay around for as long as it takes to satisfy his search for it." I told him. He was quiet.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But I'm coming, Erik only knows the potion that erases memory on top of everlasting life." Raoul told me. I scoffed.

"I think we can find the potion you used without your help, Raoul." I objected.

"Nope, I'm coming too, whether you two want me to or not. Go tell him. When are you leaving, today?" He asked.

"No, I won't tell him-" My phone was taken.

"Yes, as soon as we're ready. Meet us here. Say." Erik checked his watch. "One-thirty if you're ready by then. We're all going to be the only steady factors throughout time so we might was well make peace." Erik said. There was silence from him as he listened, he then nodded.

"Okay, we'll see you soon, Raoul." Erik told me. I stared at him as he handed me my phone. I took it without ceasing my staring.

"You are the ultimate example of character development you know." I told him. Erik smiled and laughed a little.

"Well one can't live in the past Christine." He told me, stealing another kiss. When he pulled back the look on his face was grateful and self-satisfied. I smiled and laughed, he slunk out of my room with the snootiness of a cat. I continued to get ready to leave.

I came into the living room and set my bag down on the ground. Erik was sitting in his armchair, drinking a cup of tea with his bag next to him.

"So road trip with Raoul de Chagney and the Phantom of the Opera sounds like a freaking fanfiction." I muttered shaking my head. Erik gave me a strange look.

"Fanfiction?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in an adorable way as he took another drink.

"Oh, it's when fans of something, say, Phantom of the Opera, write a story or something about the characters. It's pretty popular in America." I told him. He smiled.

"Strange. Why not just leave it the way it is?" He asked. I shrugged, laughing a little, and then sitting down on the couch.

"Because it's fun." I told him. "You can put together people you think would make great couples and write all sorts of what we call fluff. They're just cute little romance scenes. There are all sorts of it for you and Christine." I told him. Erik gave me a strange look, sitting up and placing his cup on the table locking our gazes together as he stood and joined me on the couch, wrapping me in his arms, holding me close to him

"Fluff hmm." He asked in a quiet voice. I was paralyzed.

"Yeah, kind of what we're doing right now." I told him, catching onto his game. He smiled, giving me a laugh.

"Clever little girl." He whispered in my ear. There was a knock on the door. I stood up and answered it. Raoul stood there with those ridiculous earmuffs on, a suitcase at his side.

"Hello Detective." I told him as I let him in. Erik stood and they shook hands.

"Are we ready to go?" I asked as I got my bag. Erik was very clearly hiding how smug he felt right about now, but I could tell.

"Yes we are, let's get on the road. Lots of driving to do." Erik said, grabbing his bag and heading out the door with Raoul and me following.

**A/N: Fourth wall, what fourth wall, I know not of this fourth wall of which you speak.**


End file.
